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BEGAN TO STARE AT THE NEXT LETTER HE OPENED. 

Page 163. 










MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Or 

A Smart Boy and His Chances 


BY 


ALLEN CHAPMAN 

AUTHOR OF “ THE YOUNG EXPRESS AGENT,” “ TWO BOY 
PUBLISHERS,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW YORK 

CUPPLES & LEON CO. 




Copyright Entry 


Oc 2^6 Mb’? 

iUjiSi; XXC., fiOi 

/&V4 aa 

COPY B. 


BOYS OF BUSINESS SERIES 


By Allen Chapman 


i2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents, 
postpaid. 


THE YOUNG EXPRESS AGENT 
Or Bart Stirling’s Road to Success 

TWO BOY PUBLISHERS 

Or From Typecase to Editor’s Chair 

MAIL ORDER FRANK 

Or a Poor Boy and His Chances 

(Other volumes in preparation.) 



Copyright, 1907, by 
Cupples & Leon Co. 



Mail Order Frank 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Waking Up . . ., ,. i 

II. A Five-Dollar Job . ., !#l . 1 1 

III. A Business Call . . . . . . 19 

IV. A Break for Liberty ..... 28 

V. The Balloonist’s Rescue .... 37 

VI. “ Mail Order Frank ” . . . . .51 

VII. Strictly Business . . . . . . 57 

VIII. A Step Forward . . . . ; . . 67 

IX. Sense and System . .. . . . . 76 

X. A Visit to the City . . t ., . . 87 

XI. A Friend in Need . . ... ; . 99 

XII. A Boy with a Mystery ..... 109 

XIII. A Good Start 117 

XIV. A Mean Enemy 126 

XV. A Piece of Chalk 133 

XVI. “ Frank’s Mail Order House ” . . 143 

XVII. A Nest Egg 153 

XVIII. A Suspicious Visitor 162 

XIX. Missing . . . 169 

XX. A Bad Business 176 

XXI. An Unexpected Meeting . . . .185 


CONTENTS 


XXII. Good News . . * . 

m 

r m ■»: 

194 

XXIII. A Rival Concern . . 

• 

* 

•: 200 

XXIV. An Unwelcome Visitor 

• 

. . 

. 206 

XXV. Trouble Brewing . 

:•! 

t*i [•] 

. 213 

XXVI. Mysterious Stet 

. 

i*i • 

. 219 

XXVII. The Post-Office Inspector 

(•i • 

225 

XXVIII. A Heart of Gold . . 


• • 

. 232 

XXIX. Conclusion >, , * * 

m 

» • 

* 237 


PREFACE. 


This volume is the third in “ The Boys of Busi- 
ness Series,” a line in which I am endeavoring to 
show what bright, wide-awake youths of to-day can 
do in various pursuits of life. 

The first volume in this series was called “ The 
Young Express Agent,” and related the doings of 
Bart Stirling, showing how he took his father’s 
place in the express office, learned all the details of 
that business, and made a man of himself in more 
ways than one. 

Bart had two friends, Bob and Darry Haven. 
The Haven brothers had a liking for the publishing 
business, and in the second volume of the line, 
“ Two Boy Publishers,” I told how%they became 
the owners of a country paper and made that what 
all newspapers should be, a power for good in the 
community in which it was issued. 

The Haven boys befriended a lad named Frank 
Newton, who was rather wild. Frank determined 
to turn over a new leaf, and in the present volume 
I have told how he did so, established himself in the 


PREFACE 


mail order business, and “ won out ” against con- 
siderable odds. 

The mail order business is to-day a tremendous 
one, and from small beginnings there are firms who 
have millions of capital invested. The majority of 
the mail order houses are upright and honest in 
their dealings but some are tricky, and I have 
deemed it wise to show the latter up in their true 
light. Frank proved honest to the core, and if the 
book teaches a moral it is that “ honesty is the best 
policy.” 

Allen Chapman. 

May is, 1907 . 


Mail Order Frank 


CHAPTER I 

WAKING UP 

“ Mother, I must do something, and that right 
quickly.” 

It was Frank Newton who was talking. His 
voice was composed, but determined. His face 
was calm, but there was a resolute look in his eyes. 
It told that under the surface some unusual emo- 
tion was stirring Frank. 

“ I don’t see how you can do any more than you 
are doing now,” responded his mother with an 
anxious sigh. “ Of course it seems hard to get 
along with so little when we have been used to hav- 
ing so much. But, oh, Frank, when I think of 
what was once — you away, I knew not where, and 
my heart breaking to find out — I am grateful 
and happy, and so very proud of you, my dear, 
dear boy.” 

Frank’s lip quivered at the fervent words spoken. 
They inspired him with their eloquence. His hand 


i 


2 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


trembled as it rested on his mother’s arm gently 
and lovingly. 

“ It’s worth everything to have you talk that 
way, mother,” he said in quite a husky voice, “ and 
kind words and good opinion just makes me the 
more resolved to better things.” 

“ Don’t be ungrateful or complaining, my boy.” 

“ It’s never that, mother.” 

“ And don’t be too ambitious, or too reckless. 
We have a roof to shield us and food to eat, thanks 
to your busy endeavors. The lawyer gives us 
hopes that we may recover something from the 
wreck of our lost fortune. I don’t know of any 
better outlook for the present, than to wait patiently 
and see what turns up in the way of an improve- 
ment in affairs.” 

Frank shook his head, and paced up and down 
the floor of the best room of the cozy little cot- 
tage that was their present home. 

“ It’s no use, mother,” he said finally. “ The 
lost fortune is a dream, a bubble. We may just as 
well get down to that. Mr. Beach, the lawyer, 
gives us hopes, but they are not based on much. 
At the same time, he takes his fees. We can’t 
stand that any longer. I told him so, yesterday. 
I don’t believe there is the least show in the world 
for our claim. I am sure that Mr. Beach shares 


WAKING UP 


3 


my opinion now. No,” continued Frank definitely, 
“what future there is for us must be worked out by 
our own independent exertions.” 

“ It is a bitter wrong then,” spoke his mother. 
“ When your father, Mr. Newton, died, he left me 
his town property here. When I married a sec- 
ond time, and Mr. Ismond became your stepfather, 
I had implicit confidence in him at first. He got 
me to sign the property over to him. Then I saw 
my mistake. When his tyrannical ways drove you 
away from home I lost all regard for him.” 

“ He certainly was very cruel and unjust to me,” 
murmured Frank, recalling many dark days of his 
young life. 

“ When he died,” resumed Frank’s mother,” I 
was amazed to find that all my rights to the estate 
were forfeited. It looked very much as though 
Mr. Ismond had been planning to rob us of every- 
thing when death overtook him. A man named 
Purnell, Gideon Purnell, held the title to our prop- 
erty under mortgage and sale. He sold it to Abner 
Dorsett, who now holds it. The law says Dorsett 
was an innocent purchaser, and therefore cannot 
be disturbed.” 

“ Innocent! ” flashed out Frank. “ Oh, what a 
shame ! Why, we know better than that, mother. 
We are sure that Purnell was his tool and partner. 


4 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Anyhow, we cannot hold Dorsett to make any res- 
titution. I hope some day, though, to run across 
this Purnell. If I ever do, I’ll not lose sight of 
him till I know the truth of the wicked plot that 
made us paupers. He, and he only, holds the key 
to the situation.” 

“ Mr. Dorsett is a bad man,” said the widow. 
“ His actions show he is not just. Else, why does 
he care to put obstacles in your way when you seek 
work? I wish we could leave Greenville, Frank. 
That man terrifies me. He may get you into some 
trouble. I have seen him prowling around here 
often. Then, the other day, our poor, faithful 
dog, Christmas, disappeared. That same night I 
saw Dorsett crouching under the window yonder. 
It looks as if he fears something we may know or 
do, and is lurking around eavesdropping to find out 
^what it is.” 

“ He will find a trap set for him the next time 
he comes nosing around here,” declared Frank 
with a grim-set lip. “ Mother, don’t worry your 
mind any further, I am determined to get steady 
work and earn more money. I wish, too, we could 
leave Greenville. If it was any use I would stay 
and fight Dorsett to the last ditch. It’s no use, and 
I know it. Let us get out of the sight and memory 
of the old life. I’m going to strike out new.” 


WAKING UP 


5 


“But how, what at?” inquired Mrs. Ismond, 
doubtfully. 

“ I don’t know yet, I will before another sun 
rises, though,” asserted Frank, staunchly. “ That 
is, if good hard thinking can suggest the right way 
to go about it.” 

Frank took up his cap and walked from the 
house. He paused to place a silver fifty cent piece 
on the kitchen dresser. He had earned it before 
breakfast, cutting a lawn and trimming hedges up 
at Judge Bascom’s place. 

Frank had been doinj; such odd jobs about town 
for the past four months. He was courteous, 
accomodating and energetic. Everybody he 
worked for liked him, and he never shirked an hon- 
est task. 

He made out fairly well as a general utility boy 
about the village. The worst of it was, however, 
that his good luck came in streaks. One very busy 
week Frank made over ten dollars. Then the next 
week all he could get to do was chopping wood at 
fifty cents a day. 

“ There is something better in me than that,” 
Frank resolved. “ I’ve got the problem to solve 
what it is, and I feel that it is up to me to figure it 
out right now.” 

Frank’s face clouded slightly as he crossed the 


6 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


yard and his eye fell on an empty dog house. It 
made Frank feel lonesome and worried to realize 
that its former tenant, the dog, Christmas, was 
missing. 

The faithful animal, a veritable chum to Frank, 
had disappeared one night. Frank had spent two 
days looking for him with no results. 

Christmas was a connecting link between the 
present and a very vivid section of the past in Frank 
Newton’s experience. The thought of this in- 
stantly sent Frank’s mind drifting among the vital 
and exciting incidents in that career. 

Frank was a peculiar boy. He had great sturdi- 
ness of character, what some people call “ nerve,” 
and up to two years before our story begins had led 
a happy, joyous existence. He had been an active 
spirit, and always a leader in boyish sports and fun. 

It had been a black day for Frank when his 
mother had married Ismond. Too late Mrs. New- 
ton had learned that she had wedded a fortune- 
hunter. Too soon Frank discovered that the mis- 
erable schemer planned to drive him away from 
home, so he might more easily rob the lad’s mother 
of her fortune. 

Frank stood Ismond’s abuse just as long as he 
could. Then he ran away from home. 

At first he followed a circus, tired of it, and got a 


WAKING UP 


7 , 


job tending a lemonade stand at an ocean resort. 
He made all sorts of acquaintances, good and bad. 
The latter did not demoralize him, but they did 
harden him. He grew to be a cynical, unhappy 
boy. 

In his wanderings Frank brought up at a town 
called Pleasantville. This was the home of Bart 
Stirling, the hero of the first volume of this series 
“ The Young Express Agent,” and of Darry and 
Bob Haven, whose stirring careers my former 
readers have followed in the volume entitled, 
“ Two Boy Publishers.” j 

Frank arrived at Pleasantville in the company of 
two men, who had devised a great fraud upon the 
meanest but richest man in the place, Colonel 
Harrington. In disgust of their swindling ways, 
Frank destroyed the papers they hoped to im- 
pose upon the colonel. In escaping from them 
he was severely crippled and laid up for several 
weeks. 

Soon his money gave out. He was turned away 
from the village hotel for not paying his board. 

He proved a boy of ready resources, however. 
Bob Haven formed his acquaintance in the midst 
of one of his original and daring schemes for rais- 
ing money quickly. 

Frank paid up his debts and hung around Pleas- 


8 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


antville, living upon his surplus. He was at a 
stage of his career where he was sick of change and 
adventures. He longed for home. In the friend- 
ship of the Haven boys and Bart Stirling, he be- 
gan slowly to feel his way back to a natural boy- 
hood plane. 

One night a terrible fire burned down the Pleas- 
antville Hotel. It needed just such an incident to 
rouse up in Frank the latent chivalry and courage 
of his fine soul. At the risk of his life he saved 
fourteen inmates penned up in the burning attic of 
the hotel, by helping them across a plank leading 
into an adjoining building. He braved death 
again by going back into the roaring flames to save 
a little sleeping chid. 

Frank rescued the child, but at fearful cost. He 
was dreadfully burned, almost blinded. For weeks 
he lay at the town hospital, hovering betwixt life 
and death. When he finally recovered, it was to 
learn that the town had gone wild over his heroism. 
In the paper they owned called the Pleasantville 
Weekly Herald } the Haven boys had given him “ a 
write up ” that had thrilled the community. 

More than that, Frank’s friends had learned 
that the name they had known him by, Percy St. 
Clair, was an assumed one. They accidentally dis- 
covered his real name, sent word to his native 


WAKING UP 


9 


town, and when the injured hero awoke to health 
again it was to find his devoted mother at his side, 
nursing him. 

Frank now learned that he was some good in 
the world, after all. The ovation of the grateful 
and enthusiastic town folks, the loyal, hearty 
friendship of such comrades as Bart Stirling and 
Darry and Bob Haven warmed his heart to some 
of its old-time cheer and courage. The day he left 
Pleasantville with his mother for their home at 
Greenville, Frank Newton stepped over the thres- 
hold of a new life. 

An episode of Frank’s departure was the acquisi- 
tion of Christmas. This faithful canine Bart Stirl- 
ing had adopted when he was homeless. Haven 
Brothers had later employed him to run the pony 
press in their amateur job printing office. Frank 
loved dogs, and Christmas had taken a great fancy 
to him. 

The animal whined and ran after Frank when he 
set out for the train. Frank drove Christmas 
back, but it was only to find the loyal dog hidden 
under the car seat, twenty miles on the homeward 
trip. 

When they reached Greenville, Frank wrote 
about Christmas to his Pleasantville friends. His 
letter, however, showed his half-hidden reluctancy 


10 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


towards giving up the faithful old dog. Haven 
Brothers made Frank a present of Christmas by 
return mail. 

Of all this Frank now thought as he made his 
way towards the business centre of Greenville. 

“ Hey there, Frank Newton, the very fellow! ” 

Frank looked up quickly. A rapid voice had in- 
terrupted his reverie. Its owner was a Mr. Buck- 
ner, a local insurance agent and real estate man. 

Mr. Buckner’s office sided on the street where 
Frank was walking. From its open window the 
proprietor beckoned animatedly. 

“ Want me? ” called up Frank. 

“ Sure, if you can hustle,” retorted Mr. Buckner. 

“ I can always do that if there’s anything in it,” 
was the laughing rejoinder. 

Frank crossed the street at a bound, darted 
around to the front of the building, and was up the 
stairs four steps at a time. 


CHAPTER II 

A FIVE-DOLLAR JOB 

Frank found Mr. Buckner at his desk, tearing 
out a freshly-written slip from his check book. 

“ Good — sit down,” said the business man. 
“ Ready in a second. Now then,” he added a 
minute later, after filling out a receipt blank, “ want 
to make five dollars? ” 

“ A week? ” smiled Frank. 

“ A day — an hour, if you can get the action on 
this job that quick,” responded Buckner briskly. 
“ See here, Frank,” he continued, consulting his 
watch, “ a certain individual started down that 
south road yonder in his buggy for Riverton half- 
an-hour ago.” 

“ Yes, sir,” nodded Frank. 

“ How soon can he get there? ” 

“ Horse any good? ” questioned Frank. 

“ No, common every-day hack.” 

“ Well,” calculated Frank, “ it’s fifteen miles 
around by that road. Taking it fairly easy, he’d 
get to Riverton in about two hours and a-half.” 


ii 


12 


MAJL ORDER FRANK 


“ Very good,” said Buckner. “ Can you do it 
in less time? ” 

“On foot?” 

“ Any way, so you get there.” 

“ Sure,” said Frank confidently. “ I can make 
it in an hour by crossing the flats.” 

“ Aha! ” observed Buckner, “ I see.” 

“ Direct across the swamp stretch it is barely six 
miles to Riverton,” went on Frank. 

“ But there’s no road? ” 

“ Except the trail us boys have blazed out from 
time to time,” explained Frank, his eyes brighten- 
ing at the memory of many a famous camping out 
experience in “ the Big Woods.” “ I can bike it 
four miles, wade one, and there’s only an easy mile 
stretch to come after that.” 

“ U-um,” muttered Mr. Buckner in a musing 
tone, half to himself. “ I’d rather not excite the 
suspicions of a certain person already on the road, 
so your suggestion strikes me very good, Frank. 
Will you guarantee to get to Riverton first? ” 

“ I will — with time to spare,” promised Frank, 
readily. 

“ I rely on you, then. It is quite an important 
matter. Here is a check for two hundred dollars. 
It is made payable to James Pryor. He is a fire in- 
surance adjuster at Riverton, with an office over the 


A FIVE-DOLLAR JOB 


13 


bank there. You find him out, hand him that 
check, get him to sign this receipt, and your work 
is done.” 

“ That’s easy,” said Frank with a pleasant smile. 
“ It isn’t worth five dollars, though.” 

“ I’m doing this hiring,” retorted Buckner with 
a quizzical laugh.” Client’s money, see? By the 
way, too, do this little commission up trim and neat, 
and there will be some more work for you from the 
same party.” 

Frank was mightily pleased at his task and the 
prospects. He stowed the check and receipt in a 
safe pocket, and started to leave the office. 

“ My client wants to buy up some salvage from 
a fire at Riverton,” Mr. Buckner explained. 

“ I see,” nodded Frank. 

“ A certain party here has been juggling with 
the situation. He put in a lot of dummy bids. 
We learned what his best bid was, and offered the 
same amount. Just now we got a letter — as he 
did also — accepting first payment from either of 
us. By the way, too,” continued Mr. Buckner, 
with a queer twinkle in his eye, “ when you come to 
find who it is you have helped to outwit, you may 
experience a decided personal pleasure in the dis- 
covery. Report soon as you get back to Green- 
ville, Frank.” 


14 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ That will be one o’clock at the latest,” pledged 
the boy. 

He glanced at the clock, and was down the 
stairs quicker than he had come up them. Frank 
was back home in a jiffy. He made a brief ex- 
planation to his mother. Getting out his bicycle 
he tied to the handles a pair of long rubber boots. 
Soon he was sailing down the road to the south. 

The Big Woods formed a long six-mile barrier 
between Greenville and Riverton direct. Its centre 
was practically impassible during wet seasons. It 
was a dismal, slushy waste. For this reason the 
only road to Riverton wound in a semi-circle many 
miles out of the natural course. 

Frank entered the woods at a familiar opening 
near the edge of the town. For two miles there 
was a hard trodden path, and he made good time 
on his wheel. For two more, he had to pick a 
straggling course. Many times he had to dis- 
mount from the bicycle and run it past obstacles. 
However, it was not long before he reached the 
edge of the flats. 

“ Capital! ” said Frank, after an eager survey 
of the swampy stretch. “ I couldn’t strike it drier. 
Now then, for a wade.” 

Frank ran his bicycle to cover, and drew on the 
long rubber boots. For a distance of a quarter-of- 


i 


A FIVE-DOLLAR JOB 


15 


a-mile he made ready progress by stepping from 
one dried-up clump of grass or reeds to another. 
He had to pick his course more particularly, how- 
ever, as he got to the wet spots. Wading was not 
difficult, as the water was not deep. Only once did 
Frank sink above the knees. 

“ Whew ! that was a hot tug,” panted the youth, 
as he reached the west slope of the flats. 

Frank threw himself flat on dry ground and 
rested for five minutes. Then he arose and re- 
moved the rubber boots. He hid these among 
some bushes and resumed his travels at a lively gait. 

Presently Frank was passing the vicinity of a 
board fence. It reached up fully fifteen feet, and 
its top was studded with sharp-pointed nails. 
Frank was not near enough to observe it more than 
casually. He had no time to make a closer inspec- 
tion, and, past a reach of timber, it was shut out 
entirely from his view. 

“ Hello ! ” again he exclaimed a few minutes 
later, and paused this time to look across a ditch. 
An object of decided curiosity and interest held 
Frank’s attention. This was a little ragged urchin 
curled up fast asleep against a clump of dry weeds. 

He was barefooted, and up to the knees he was 
spattered and caked with dry mud. His face 
was dust-covered, tired-looking and tear-stained. 


/ 


16 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

Frank’s sympathy was easily aroused. He voted 
the little fellow some wretched, homeless lad on a 
tramp. 

By the side of the boy was quite a large bundle. 
It was enclosed in a newspaper. The breeze blew 
the sheets aside and the contents were disclosed 
quite readily to Frank’s view. 

“Well!” said Frank, his eyes opening wide, 
“ he’s not a vegetarian, that’s sure.” 

The remark was called forth by a sight of a mass 
of cold cooked meat that might well make Frank 
stare, on account of its volume and variety. It 
looked as if the young wayfarer had gathered up a 
lunch for many days. There were parts of mutton 
chops, chunks of roast beef, and cuts of pork, 
flanked by bones and remnants of hash and saus- 
ages. 

“ Hope he’s here when I come back this way,” 
said Frank. “ Looks pretty forelorn. I’d be 
glad to give him a lift.” 

Frank hurried forward now. He soon reached 
the outskirts of Riverton. Within ten minutes he 
gained the business centre of the little town. 
Frank located the bank. He was soon at the door 
of an office over it bearing the words in gilt letters : 

James Pryor , Fire Insurance. 


A FIVE-DOLLAR JOB 


17 


The door was open. Seated behind a wire rail- 
ing at a desk was a cross-looking old man writing 
in a book. Frank approached him with the ques- 
tion. 

“ Is Mr. Pryor in?” 

“ Eleven,” snapped out the man without looking 
up from his work. 

“ You mean he will be here at eleven o’clock? ” 
pursued Frank. 

“ Yes.” 

“ I’ll wait for him then,” said Frank, selecting 
a chair. He felt a trifle disappointed and worried. 
The “ certain other party ” was on the road to 
Riverton. It was part of Frank’s contract to see 
Pryor before his arrival. 

Several people came in and inquired for the in- 
surance man during the next half-hour. Some of 
them went away saying they would return at eleven 
o’clock. Some others sat down like Frank, and 
waited. Frank heard the old clerk explain to one 
caller that Mr. Pryor was in his private room, but 
engaged in a most important consultation with a 
client. 

Frank grew restless. He approached the cross- 
grained clerk again. 

“ Excuse me,” he said politely, “ but I under- 
stand that Mr. Pryor is in his private room.” 

2 


i8 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“What of it? Can’t be disturbed,” snapped 
out his representative. 

Frank retreated. He managed to endure a fur- 
ther tedious wait of a quarter-of-an-hour. Finally 
he strolled to the window looking down on the 
street. 

“ That ‘ other party ’ is on his way here,” mused 
Frank anxiously. u Suppose he gets here before 
eleven o’clock? That gives him an even chance 
with myself. Oh, the mischief ! ” exclaimed Frank 
suddenly. “ Now the pot’s in the fire, sure ! ” 

Frank gave a great start, and stared fixedly at a 
horse and gig that came clattering to a stop just 
then in front of the bank. 

Frank recognized the vehicle and its driver. As 
he did so, he as quickly guessed that this new ar- 
rival must be the “ certain party ” alluded to by 
Mr. Buckner. 

The new comer was Abner Dorsett, the man who 
had helped to swindle Frank’s mother out of her 
fortune. 


i 


[CHAPTER III 

A BUSINESS CALL 

Frank watched Dorsett dismount from the gig 
and tie his horse. He realized that he would be 
up into the insurance man’s office in a few minutes. 

“ I must do something, and quickly,” thought 
Frank. “ The second that man sees me he will 
suspect my mission here. He is a person of sub- 
stance, and will carry weight. I shall be left if he 
gets into action first.” 

Frank reflected rapidly. The old clerk, as he 
had already found out, was unapproachable. 
Frank was seized with a wild impulse to leap over 
the wire railing and rush past the clerk to the door 
of Mr. Pryor’s private office. 

“ Maybe it’s locked, though,” said Frank. 
“ No, I won’t do that. I don’t see that I can do 
much of anything, except to wait and take my 
chance of getting the check into Mr. Pryor’s hands 
before Mr. Dorsett guesses what’s up. 

Frank glanced at the clock. It showed ten min- 
19 


20 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


utes to eleven. He went out into the hall and drew 
back into the shelter of a big fuel box there. 

Dorsett came up the stairs, buggy whip in hand. 
He bustled into the office in his usual self-import- 
ant way. Frank noticed that the old clerk sat 
down on him promptly. He was not one bit im- 
pressed with the bombastic visitor from Greenville. 

Dorsett scowled as the clerk pointed to the clock, 
and impatiently fumbling the whip, sat down with 
the others in the office to await the royal pleasure 
of its closeted proprietor. 

Frank did a lot of thinking. He planned all 
kinds of wild dashes when the door of that private 
office should open. Then, happening to stroll 
down the hall, a new idea was suggested to him. 

“ Would it win ? ” Frank breathlessly asked him- 
self. 

He had come out on a little landing. This was 
that platform of stairs running down into the rear 
of the lot that the bank and the insurance office oc- 
cupied. 

Six feet away from it to the left were two win- 
dows. They were both open. The low hum of 
voices reached Frank’s ears. Judging from the 
situation of the apartment beyond, Frank was sure 
that he had located the insurance man’s private 
room. 


A BUSINESS CALL 


21 


“ I wonder if I dare? ” he challenged himself. 
“ I wonder if it would work? ” 

His eyes snapped and his fingers tingled. Then 
Frank studied the outlook more carefully. He 
calculated first his chances of getting to the first 
window. He also planned just what he would say 
in the way of explanation and apology once he 
reached it. 

Two feet away from the platform a lightning 
rod ran straight up the building. Frank seized 
this. He fearlessly swung himself free of the plat- 
form, bracing his toes on a protending joint of the 
rod. 

At the side of the nearest window, top and bot- 
tom, were two hinge standards. They had been 
inbedded in the solid masonry when the place was 
built to hold iron shutters, if such were ever needed. 
The bank floor below was guarded with these, but 
none had been put in place on the upper story. 

Frank swung one hand free, and bending to a 
rather risky angle hooked a forefinger around the 
upper one of these standards. At the same time 
he gave his body a swing clear of his footing. 

He aimed to land his feet on the sill of the near- 
est window. In this Frank succeeded. There was 
no time, however, to chance losing the foothold 
thus gained. He promptly slid his free hand down 


22 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


under the frame of the raised window. He got a 
firm clutch. Relaxing his hold of the hinge stand- 
ard, he stooped. 

The next moment, on a decidedly reckless and 
awkward balance, Frank tumbled rather than 
dropped inside of the room that was his objective 
point of assault. 

“ Hello ! what’s this? ” instantly hailed him. 

Frank nimbly gained an upright position. He 
faced two men who, seated at a table covered with 
papers, began to push back their chairs in a some- 
what startled way. They stared hard at the in- 
truder. 

Frank promptly doffed his cap. He made his 
most courteous bow. 

“ Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said in a rather 
flustrated way, “ but which is Mr. Pryor, please ? ” 

“ I am Pryor,” answered one of the twain, and 
Frank saw from the gathering frown on the speak- 
er’s face that a storm was brewing unless he headed 
it off summarily. 

“ I must beg your pardon, Mr. Pryor,” said 
Frank, “ but it is a matter of some business im- 
portance. I have been waiting for over an hour 
to see you. It won’t take but a moment, sir,” and 
Frank swiftly produced the check and the receipt 
entrusted to him by Mr. Buckner. Before Pryor 


A BUSINESS CALL 


23 


realized it, they were thrust into his hands and he 
was looking at them. 

“ Oh, this can wait,” he said pettishly. “ I 
don’t like this kind of an intrusion, young man.” 

“ I am very sorry, Mr. Pryor,” interrupted 
Frank in a gentle, polite tone, “ but I am only a 
paid messenger, and I promised Mr. Buckner to 
be back with that receipt at a certain time.” 

“ So you seized the bull by the horns,” broke in 
Pryor’s companion with a great chuckle. “ And 
outwitted old Grumper, the clerk, ha ! ha ! Pryor, 
nail the boy on a year’s contract. He’s got the 
making in him of a first-class insurance solicitor, 
in his originality, daring and — ” 

“Cheek,” muttered Pryor. “Well, well — 
here’s your receipt.” 

Frank seized the paper that Pryor signed with 
a swift scrawl of the pen, with an eagerness that 
was a kind of delighted rapture. 

“ Oh, thank you, sir,” he said, “ and a thousand 
apologies for my rude intrusion.” 

“ Hold on,” ordered Pryor, as Frank returned 
towards the window. 

“ Yes, unless you carry extra accident insurance,” 
put in Pryor’s companion. “ You might not find 
it so easy getting out of that window as you did get- 
ting in, young fellow.” 


24 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Mr. Pryor had gone to the clouded glass door, 
which Frank knew opened into the main office. 
He slipped its catch and opened it. Frank under- 
stood that he was to pass out that way. He started 
forward, making a deferential bow to his host. 

“Hi, I say, Pryor — one minute! ” sounded a 
voice in the outer office, and Frank wondered what 
was a^Dut to happen as he recognized the tones as 
belonging to Dorsett. 

“ In a few minutes,” responded Pryor, with an 
impatient wave of his hand. 

“ All right. It’s about the salvage business, you 
know,” went on Dorsett from behind the wire grat- 
ing. “ Want to pay you the money and close up 
the deal.” 

“ Oh, that? ” spoke Pryor, with a sudden glance 
■at Frank and a grim twinkle in his eyes. “ You 
young schemer ! ” he said to Frank in an undertone, 
with a slight chuckle. “ I understand your pecu- 
liar tactics, now. You’ll do, decidedly, young 
man ! ” 

Frank tried to look all due humility, but he 
could not entirely suppress a satisfied smile. As he 
passed out Pryor said to Dorsett: “ You are too 
late on that matter. I have just closed the salvage 
business with Buckner of Greenville.” 

“You’ve what?” howled Dorsett, with a vio- 


A BUSINESS CALL 


25 


lent start. “ Why, I’m here first. No one passed 
me on the road. I — er, hum ” — Dorsett turned 
white as his eye fell on Frank. He glared and 
shook his driving whip. 

The animated and interested friend of Pryor 
stuck his head past the open doorway. 

“ I say, youngster,” he asked guardedly, his face 
all a-grin, “ how did you circumvent the old 
chap? ” 

“ Well, I nearly swam part of the way,” ex- 
plained Frank. “ Thank you, Mr. Pryor,” he 
added, as the latter opened the wire gate for him 
to pass out. 

The old clerk had sprung to his feet, gaping in 
consternation at him. Pryor’s friend was con- 
vulsed with internal mirth. Pryor himself did 
not look altogether displeased at the situation. 

Frank thought that Dorsett would actually leap 
upon him and strike him with the whip. The lat- 
ter, however, with a hoarse growl in his throat, al- 
lowed Frank to proceed on his way unhindered. 

“ We shall hear from this of course — my 
mother and I,” said the youth to himself as he 
gained the street. “ Mr. Dorsett will store this 
up against me, hard. All right — I’ve done my 
simple duty and I’ll stand by the results.” 

A minute later, looking back the way he had 


26 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


come, Frank saw Dorsett come threshing out into 
the street. He kicked a dog out of his path, rudely 
jostled a pedestrian, jumped into the gig and went 
tearing down the homeward road plying the whip 
and venting his cruel rage on the poor animal in 
the shafts. 

Frank started back towards Greenville the way 
he had come. He was greatly pleased at his suc- 
cess, and cheeringly anticipated the good the five 
dollars would do his mother and himself. 

As Frank passed the spot where he had noticed 
the farefooted, mud-bespattered urchin lying asleep 
by the side of the ditch, he could find no trace of the 
lad. 

A little farther on Frank came in sight of the 
high board fence he had so curiously observed on 
his way to Riverton. 

The wind was his way, and as he approached the 
queer barrier he was somewhat astonished at a great 
babel of canine barking and howls that greeted his 
ears. 

“ Sounds like a kennel,” he reflected, “ hut’s a 
big one. Why, if there isn’t the little fellow with 
the package of meat.” 

Frank wonderingly regarded a tattered, forlorn 
figure at a distance seeming to be glued right up 
face forward against the fence. 


A BUSINESS CALL 


27 


The boy had piled two or three big boulders on 
top of one another. These he had surmounted, 
and was peering through a high up crack or knot 
hole in the fence. 

On one arm he carried the newspaper package 
Frank had noticed. Bit by bit he poised its con- 
tents, hurling them over the fence. 

A loud clamor of yelps and barkings would 
greet this shower of food. Frank drew nearer, 
mightily interested. 

The little fellow would throw over a bone and 
peer inside the enclosure. 

“ Get it, Fido ! ” Frank heard him shout. 
“ They won’t let him — those big ones,” he wailed. 
“ Oh, you dear, big fellow, help him, help him. 
No, they wont’ let him. Fido, Fido, Oh, my! oh 
my!” 

The little fellow slipped down to a seat on the 
boulders now and began to cry as if his heart would 
break. Frank approached and pulled at his arm. 

“ Hi, youngster,” he challenged, “ what in the 
world are you up to, anyhow ? ” 


CHAPTER IV 


A BREAK FOR LIBERTY 

The little ragamuffin addressed by Frank raised 
his dirt-creased, tear-stained face pathetically. He 
looked at his questioner for a moment and then 
went on crying harder than ever. 

“ Well,” said Frank, “ this is a queer go. 
Come, little son, brace up and tell what is the mat- 
ter w 7 ith you. Who is Fido — a dog? ” 

“ Sure. He’s in there, he’s been in there for 
two days now, and I cannot get him out.” 

“ There appears to be a good many dogs in 
there, judging from the racket,” said Frank. 
“ What kind of a place is this, anyhow? ” 

“ It’s the pound,” explained the urchin. “ Be- 
longs to Riverton, but Sile Stoggs runs it. Know 
Stoggs? ” 

“ I don’t,” answered Frank. 

“ He’s a brute — Oh, what a brute! ” cried the 
little fellow. “ Was a constable — the mean kind. 
Turned a poor woman out of her house in the cold 
last winter. She died, and her two big brothers 
28 


A BREAK FOR LIBERTY 


29 


met Stoggs one dark night and nearly kicked the 
life out of him. He had to give up business, for 
they crippled him.” 

“ Go ahead,” encouraged Frank. 

“ He had some pol — politicattle friends, I 
think they call it. One of them was a sharp law- 
yer. He raked up a lot of old ord — ordinants.” 

“ Ordinances, I suppose you mean? ” suggested 
Frank. 

“Yes, sir, that sounds more like it, — anyway, 
village laws, see ? They said Riverton should have 
a pound. They worked it so that Stoggs got the 
job of poundmaster. The town pays him a big 
rent for these old barracks. Used to be a trotting 
park. He drives around in a little dog cart, and 
picks up all the stray horses and cows he can catch. 
Then the owners have to pay two dollars to get 
them out of the pound. Stoggs gets half. Wish 
that was Stogg,” and the boy kicked a dirt clump so 
hard that he stubbed his toe and winced. 

“ And what about the dogs? ” asked Frank. 

“ That’s a new wrinkle. About a month ago 
Stoggs’ lawyer fished up another old law about dog 
license, or tax, or something of that kind. Since 
then he’s been capturing all the dogs he could find 
for miles around. It wouldn’t matter, if he was 
kind to them,” went on the lad,” but he isn’t. He 


30 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


starves them. He beats them, too awfully. 
And you’d ought to see the dirty old water trough 
where he makes them drink. Mother is poor. 
We can’t pay any two dollars to get Fido out. But 
I come here every day and bring all the meat I can 
gather up, and feed the poor things. The trouble 
is, though, there is s(i many of them in there, and 
they are so hungry, and poor Fido is so small, he 
hardly ever gets a nibble. There’s a grand, big 
dog in there looks out for him when he can, and 
divides a bone with him, but the rough dogs get 
most of the food.” 

“ Have you tried to get this Stoggs to let you 
have Fido back? ” inquired Frank. 

“ Yes, but he only abused me, laughed at me, and 
drove me away. Yesterday he caught me trying to 
dig that board loose near the boulders. He kicked 
me, and struck me twice with his club. Wish I 
had a shovel. It would be safe to dig a bit now. 
A big balloon went over here a little while ago. I 
saw Stoggs in his cart driving over to the hill to get 
a better sight of it.” 

“ H’m,” mused Frank. “ Quite an interesting 
situation. I’ll take a look inside there, I guess. 
Hey, hello, why — Christmas ! ” 

Frank, in mingled pleasure and astonishment, 
fairly shouted out this name. The minute he had 


A BREAK FOR LIBERTY 


3i 


mounted the boulders and peered in through the 
crack in the fence, he made out his own missing 
canine among a motley group of over forty dogs. 

Slam ! came an instantaneous bound against the 
fence that made it quiver and creak. Slam — 
slam ! right up to the spot where Frank had uttered 
the name, Christmas sprang repeatedly. He was 
mad with joy and excitement at recognizing his 
young master’s voice. 

Frank was now quite as much stirred up as his 
youthful companion. He had to call to Christ- 
mas to reassure and quiet the animal. The dog 
was tearing at the fence harried in such a frenzied 
manner that Frank feared he would severely injure 
himself. 

“ How did Christmas ever get this far away 
from home? ” he reflected, getting off the boulders 
and onto the ground again. “ Say, if that Stoggs 
has gone deliberately out of his territory and caught 
him at Greenville, I’ll get the boys to come here 
and tar and feather him. Easy, old fellow,” 
called Frank to Christmas, who, yelping frant- 
ically, could still be heard throwing himself against 
the boards of the fence. 

“ My goodness ! ” shouted Frank’s companion, 
suddenly. “ Look at that, now.” 

His eyes goggled as a great snap sounded out. 


32 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“The mischief! ” exclaimed Frank. “This 
won’t do.” 

Christmas, it seemed, had flung his body with 
terrific force against the very plank where the 
owner of Fido had been digging. Its ground end 
was soaked and rotted by the damp earth that had 
surrounded it. It gave, vibrating, and Christmas 
forced his head and shoulders through the aper- 
ture. He wriggled and howled, for the board 
closed on him like a wedge. Then, making a des- 
perate lunge, the dog bore the board outwards. 
There was a sharp snap. Obliquely the timber 
ripped four feet up its length. 

Bursting the slivered section fully apart, Christ- 
mas, with a joyous howl, sprang free. He 
bounded upon his master in frantic delight, with 
such impetuosity that he bore Frank flat to the 
ground. 

“ Here, behave, old fellow. Well, I’m glad, 
too,” said Frank. “ For mercy’s sake ! ” 

With difficulty restraining the wild caresses of 
his loyal dumb friend, Frank regained his feet to 
stare about him in consternation. 

Christmas had blazed the way to freedom, and 
a vast concourse was following his lead. It was 
like bees pouring out from a bee hive. Through 
the break in the fence there came bounding what 


A BREAK FOR LIBERTY 


33 


seemed to be an endless procession. There were 
big dogs and little dogs, mastiffs, fox terriers and 
collies. One magnificent St. Bernard got wedged 
in the fence break. Those behind fairly pushed 
him through, letting loose a stream of canines like 
corn from a spout. 

Out bounded the released animals, fairly crazy 
with delight at finding their freedom. Nearly all 
of them instantly made for a near ditch filled with 
clear water. They lapped it up luxuriously, they 
rolled and wallowed in the pure, cool element. 
Then, like divurging spokes from one central 
source, they streaked it homewards as instinct told 
them their proper compass point. 

The little ragged urchin Frank found seated on 
the ground, fondling and crying over the tiniest, 
silken-haired poodle he had ever seen. Its own af- 
fectionate antics were fairly affecting. Beside the 
pair, limping on three legs, a forlorn little fox- 
terrier looked homelessly and friendlessly longing, 
as if begging for a share of attention. 

“Yes, I’ll take you, too!” cried the ragged 
youngster, putting Fido under one arm and gather- 
ing up the crippled canine in the other. “ Say,” 
he shouted to Frank, “you’re a brick! Oh, but 
you’ve done a good day’s work. Thank you, 
thank you, thank you! Only, get now — don’t 
3 


34 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


wait. If Stoggs catches us, he’ll send us to jail 
for life. Why,” continued the urchin with a start, 
staring hard at Christmas,” is that your dog? ” 

“ It is,” nodded Frank. 

The little fellow stooped and deliberately kissed 
Christmas, his eyes full of grateful tears, purring 
out found terms of endearment. 

“You’re two grand fellows!” he blubbered. 
“ That’s the dog that was such a good friend to 
Fido,” and Fido, whimpering, struck out his 
head and rubbed noses with Christmas, who frol- 
icked around all hands as if some great jubilee was 
going on. 

“ Yes, I fancy we had better be moving on,” said 
Frank, with a glance into the enclosure to find it 
entirely deserted by its recent inmates. 

“ About your dog, though,” said his compan- 
ion, hurriedly. “I -can tell you something about 
him.” 

“ Can you, indeed?” asked Frank. 

“ Yes, sir. I was here the day a man drove up 
in a gig from Riverton-way with your dog.” 

“In a gig?” repeated Frank, pricking up his 
ears. 

“ Yes, I was hanging around near the house at 
the front of the pound. The man called Stoggs 
out. He had your dog tied behind the axle. He 


A BREAK FOR LIBERTY 


35 


made a bargain with Stoggs for five dollars to get 
rid of the animal — send him away somewhere. 
He was a man with reddish side-whiskers and a cast 
in one eye.” 

Frank’s own good eyes flamed. He drew his 
breath with an angry catch in it. 

“ Dorsett,” he said. “The villian did it, eh? 
I wondered how poor Christmas came to be cooped 
up here, so far away from home. The mean 
sneak! He did it so he could snoop around the 
house and spy on us without interruption. Go- 
ing? Good-bye. I hope you will keep Fido safe 
and sound from the dogcatchers this time.” 

“ You bet I will,” cried the little fellow, bolting 
off with his double canine burden. “ And you’re 
a brick! ” 

Frank turned his face in the direction of home. 
He soon got out of sight of the pound with no in- 
dication of his having been seen or pursued. 
Christmas bounded over the fresh turf, cutting up 
all kinds of antics and barking joyously. 

When they reached the flats Frank secured his 
rubber boots and was soon in the midst of the mo- 
rass. Christmas led the way, making grand fun of 
leaps and dousings, and they reached the woods be- 
yond with no mishap. 

Frank drew his bicycle from the spot where he 


36 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


had hidden it, secured his rubber boots to the ma- 
chine, and was speedily, threading the path he had 
traversed in the opposite direction earlier in the 
day. 

Passing down a gentle declivity in an open space, 
Christmas set up a sudden bark. Frank turned, to 
observe the dog halted and looking aloft. 

“ Hello! ” exclaimed Frank, also glancing sky- 
wards. “ That must be the balloon the little fel- 
low at the pound was telling about.” 

The balloon was about two miles distant, and 
was instantly obscured from view by some tall 
trees. 

Frank had kept on going without looking ahead. 
The momentary distraction had its result. 

Too late he turned the handle bars of the bicycle 
and set the brake. 

Bump! the machine struck a jagged tree stump, 
and Frank Newton took a header. 


CHAPTER V 


THE BALLOONIST’S RESCUE 

There was a sharp bang as the bicycle struck 
the tree stump. Frank righted himself readily and 
ran to the machine where it had fallen. 

“ Pshaw ! ” he exclaimed, “ tire punctured and 
the wheel a pretty bad wreck generally.” 

This was true. A jagged sliver had ripped a 
hole in both the outer and inner tubes of the front 
wheel. The hard bang against the tree stump had 
twisted several spokes out of place and set a rim 
wobbling. 

Frank had started in such a hurry from Riverton 
that morning that he had not thought of taking his 
mending kit along. He debated what he should 
do without further loss of time. 

“ I might carry it,” he reflected. “ If I try to 
run it, I will loosen it up more and lose some of 
the parts. Guess I’ll leave it here, get my mes- 
sage to Mr. Buckner, stop at the house for my 
tool kit, and fix the machine up right here. This 
way, my staunch and trusty friend,” he hailed to 
37 


38 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Christmas. “Watch it, old fellow, watch it,” 
said Frank to the dog, placing his hand on the 
wheel. 

Christmas looked longingly after his young mas- 
ter as Frank started on foot for Greenville. How- 
ever, the animal posed right alongside the bicycle. 
Frank knew that it would take a loaded cannon to 
drive the trusty canine from the vicinity of his 
charge until he himself reappeared and gave the 
word. 

It was just one o’clock when Frank, a trifle 
dusty and footsore, entered the office of Mr. Buck- 
ner. 

“ Well, well, good for you, Frank,” commended 
the insurance man, as he glanced at the clock and 
then at his visitor’s beaming face. “ Of course 
you succeeded? ” 

“ I did,” admitted Frank, a little proudly, “ but 
there was a tangle.” 

“ Ah, indeed?” 

“ Yes, sir. Dorsett was on the spot. There is 
the receipt. I had to climb for it.” 

“ What do you mean? ” 

Frank told of the circumstances of his exploit 
at Mr. Pryor’s office at Riverton. Mr. Buckner 
lay back in his chair chuckling and laughing. 
Then he got up and clapped Frank approvingly on 


THE BALLOONIST’S RESCUE 


39 


the shoulder with one hand, and with the other 
extended a crisp new five-dollar bill. 

“ I am glad to get this,” said Frank, “ but I 
have hardly earned so much, I think.” 

“ What ! when you saved the day by your nimble- 
ness and square common sense? See here, Frank, 
I’m mightily pleased with you, and if you will drop 
in here to-morrow I think I can put you in the way 
of earning a few more of those precious notes.” 

Frank bowed his thanks and left the office with 
a light heart. He went straight home, entered the 
house quietly, and actually startled his mother by 
silently dropping the five-dollar bill on the book 
in her lap. 

Mrs. Ismond shared her son’s pleasure when 
Frank recited his brisk experiences of the morning. 
He ate a good lunch with appetizing vigor, se- 
cured his bicycle repair kit, and was soon down the 
road, whistling cheerily all the way to the big 
woods. 

As Frank neared the spot where he had left 
Christmas and the bicycle, he was greeted with 
loud and repeated barking. 

“ That’s strange,” he mused. “ Christmas isn’t 
given to such demonstrations when on duty. Some 
one must have come in sight or hearing. Hey, old 
fellow, what’s all this rumpus? ” questioned Frank,, 


40 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


as, emerging from a copse, he came in full view of 
the dog. 

Christmas was running up and down in front of 
the bicycle. He would face in a certain direction 
and pose and bark. He even ran up to his mas- 
ter as Frank approached, and seizing his coat in 
his teeth gently but resolutely pulled him in the di- 
rection he had pointed. 

“ He means something by all this,” declared 
Frank. “ Go ahead,” he ordered. 

Christmas, thus advised, bounded forward 
among some big trees. Frank, coming up with 
him after a jaunt of about three hundred feet, 
found him squatted on his haunches under a giant 
oak tree, looking up among its branches. Frank- 
looked up, too. A moving object attracted his at- 
tention. 

“ Why,” said Frank, staring fixedly, “ it’s a 
balloon.” 

This he discerned beyond question. He could 
plainly make out its slack rigging. An ungainly, 
half-distended gas bag was wobbling about in the 
topmost branches of the tree. Lower down, 
turned sideways and partly smashed in, was a big 
wicker basket. 

“ It must be the balloon that little ragged fellow 
told about, the same one that I saw when I took 



HE KEPT HIS EYE ON THE SWAYING FIGURE OVERHEAD 
ALL THE TIME. Page 41 . 




> 



















' • 

































THE BALLOONIST’S RESCUE 


4i 


that header from the bicycle,” decided Frank. 
“ There couldn’t have been any one in it. Oh, say 
— but there was, Mercy ! ” and Frank gave a vio- 
lent start and quick gasp. He stood transfixed 
with a sudden thrilling emotion akin to terror, 

His eye sweeping the tree expanse keenly, he 
now made out, lying across two limbs about thirty 
feet from the ground, a human figure. 

This form was motionless, and bent the branches 
considerably. As the breeze stirred them, they 
rocked like a cradle. 

Frank guessed out the situation instantly. The 
balloon had driven or dropped into the tree top, 
shattering the cage and tipping out its pilot. 

The latter had sustained a twenty-foot fall, 
striking some big branches with enough force to 
stun him. He had landed on his present frail 
perch. Frank’s heart almost stood still as he real- 
ized that a single waking moment, a treacherous 
shifting of the wind, might precipitate the im- 
perilled balloonist to the ground with a broken 
neck. 

Frank’s nerves were on a hard strain, but he 
grew composed as he decided what he would do. 
He motioned the dog to silence, and at once started 
to climb the tree. 

He kept his eye on the swaying figure overhead 


42 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


all the time. At length Frank reached a big 
crotched branch shooting out from the main trunk 
not four feet under that which sustained the un- 
conscious balloonist. 

Frank braced his feet across the crotch. He 
took a great, long breath of relief and satisfaction, 
for he found himself now so situated that if the 
man should stir or slip from his insecure resting 
place, he could retard his fall. 

Frank had, upon leaving home, placed a long coil 
of rope in his coat pocket. This he intended to use 
to tie up the bicycle in case he found it necessary 
to take it home to repair it. He now used this to 
form a criss-cross sort of a hammock directly under 
the two branches supporting the balloonist. 

“ There,” said Frank finally, feeling he had the 
man in right shape at last. “If he drops, that 
contrivance will hold him like a net.” 

The youth rested for a few minutes, for it had 
been no easy task to slip the rope around the two 
branches and secure it stoutly. When he again 
stood up, he moved along his footing so that his 
face was on a level with the strange bed of the 
balloonist. 

The latter lay sunk down among bending twigs 
like a person in a hammock. His face was blood- 
less, and over one temple was a great lump. That 


THE BALLOONIST’S RESCUE 


43 


was probably where a heavy branch had struck 
and stunned him. 

The stranger was fairly well-dressed, and he had 
intelligent features. For all this, however, there 
was a careless, easy-going look about him. He 
did not at all suggest to Frank the quick-witted, 
nerve-strained typical aeronaut. 

Frank made his footing very sure, braced firmly, 
and with one hand took a stout grasp under the 
sleeper’s collar. 

“Wake up — wake up,” he called directly in 
his ear. 

The man stirred faintly, only. Frank contin- 
ued to call out to him. He also with his other 
hand slapped his chest, his cheeks, his outstretched 
palms. 

Finally with a deep groan the man opened his 
eyes wide suddenly. He stared and mumbled and 
tried to start up, but Frank held him flat. 

“ Easy, mister, now,” warned Frank gently. 
“ Take time to find out the fix you are in. Then 
let me help you to the ground.” 

“Help me — why, ginger! I understand,” ex- 
claimed the balloonist. 

He lay back weakly, staring at Frank, then all 
about him, and finally up at the gas bag flopping 
about in the upper branches of the tree top. 


44 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ I remember now,” he went on in a drawling, 
reminiscent tone. “ It was a quick drop. Valve 
blew out. A regular smash when we landed. 
She’s a wreck, isn’t she? And say,” and the man 
glancing sideways downward shuddered, “ if I had 
gone the full header it would have been all day 
with me, eh? ” 

Frank nodded. Briefly he explained how he 
had come to discover the refugee’s plight. He 
helped the man to sit up, guiding and assisting him. 
The latter came slowly out of his maze of be- 
wilderment, and looked grateful. 

“ You’ve saved me, I guess,” he observed. 
“ One move or slip, and I’d have gone shooting 
down the rest of the way.” 

“ When you are ready, let me help you to the 
ground,” suggested Frank. 

“ Oh, I’m all right now. Just a little shaking 
up,” assured the man. “ No, no, don’t you worry. 
I’m at home among trapezes.” 

The balloonist extricated himself successfully 
from the swaying branches and poised in a crotch 
nearer to the main trunk of the tree. 

“ Just a minute,” he said, deftly going up the 
tree, clambering over the shattered basket and 
reaching up. 

There was a great hiss and a dense taint of es- 


THE BALLOONIST’S RESCUE 


45 


caping gas in the air as he operated some valve 
in the mechanism of the balloon. The gas bag 
dropped gracefully to a mass of silken and rubber 
folds. 

Then the man started to descend, Frank preced- 
ing him. Both reached the ground in safety. 
The balloonist took an approving look at Frank, 
patted Christmas and began arranging his disor- 
dered attire. 

“What are you going to do next?” asked 
Frank, after his companion had walked around the 
tree two or three times, viewing its top specula- 
tively the while, and whistling softly to himself. 

“ Well, the bag is safe for a time. I guess Fd 
better get to the nearest town and telegraph the 
boss. It will be a job getting the balloon out of 
that fix without further damage.” 

“ If you will rest a bit till I fix up a broken bicy- 
cle I have over yonder, I will pilot you to Green- 
ville,” said Frank. 

“ Good for you,” commended the man, and he 
followed Frank to the spot where the wheel lay. 

Frank set at work on the damaged bicycle. He 
now had the necessary tools and material at hand to 
fix it up. At the end of ten minutes he had the 
wheel in safe shape to roll it home, where he could 
repair it more permanently. 


46 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Meantime his companion rattled on volubly. 
He told Frank his name was Park Gregson. He 
was a sort of a “ knockaround.” He had been 
with a circus, had fought Indians, had been major 
in the South African War, had circumnavigated 
the globe twice, in fact, a Jack-of-all-trades and 
master of none for over fifteen years. 

“ That ^balloon,” he explained, “belongs to a 
professional aeronaut. He hired me to help him. 
She’s a new one, that yonder. I was making a 
trial cruise. Professor Balmer, who owns her, is at 
Circleville. As I say, I must wire him to come 
and get her on her feet again.” 

“ You mean her wings? ” suggested Frank. 

“Exactly. Ready? No, you needn’t help 
me, Pm only a trifle bruised and stiff.” 

Frank led the way townwards. He stopped at 
the house to put his bicycle away. Then he ac- 
companied his companion to the railroad depot. 
Here Park Gregson wrote out a telegram and 
handed it to the operator. 

“ Expect an answer,” he observed. “ I’ll call 
for it. No, send it to me. I say, Newton,” he 
addressed Frank with friendly familiarity, 
“ where’s the best place to put up till the professor 
reports himself? ” 

“ There’s a fairly good hotel here,” said Frank. 


THE BALLOONIST’S RESCUE 


47 


Gregson looked a trifle embarassed for an in- 
stant. Then he laughed, saying. 

“ They’ll have to take me in penniless till the 
professor arrives.” 

“ That will be all right,” declared Frank. “ I’ll 
vouch for you. But say, if you would be our 
guest at home, you will be very welcome.” 

“ And I will be very delighted to have your 
most entertaining company,” instantly replied 
Gregson. “ I’ll make it all right when the boss 
comes.” 

Frank was glad to offer this hospitality to his 
new chance acquaintance. The man interested 
him. Everything he talked about he covered in a 
vivid way that made his descriptions instructive. 
Already he had suggested some points to Frank 
that had set the latter thinking in new directions. 
The wide experience of the man was suggestive 
and valuable to Frank. 

Park Gregson asked the telegraph operator to 
send any reply to his message to the Newton home, 
and accompanied Frank there. 

As they neared the cottage a man in a gig came 
driving down the road. It was Dorsett. 

He glared fiercely at Frank, and then bestowed 
an inquisitive, suspicious look upon the stranger. 

Frank introduced Gregson to his mother, who 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


prepared a lunch for him. Gregson was more 
shaken up than he had expressed, and was glad to 
lie down and rest in the neatly-furnished spare 
room of the cottage. 

Frank had some odd chores to do about the vil- 
lage. When he came home again about six o’clock 
he found Gregson refreshed-looking and comfor- 
tably seated in the parlor reading a book. 

They had a pleasant time at the supper table. 
Then they adjourned to the cozy little sitting-room. 
Christmas was allowed to stay in the house, and 
seemed to enjoy the animated ways of the balloon- 
ist as much as the others. 

Park Gregson fairly fascinated them with the 
story of his travels and adventures in many coun- 
tries. 

“ You see, I have been quite a rolling stone, Mrs. 
Ismond,” he said. “ A harmless one, though.” 

“ Have you never thought of settling down to 
some regular occupation, sir?” suggested Frank’s 
mother. 

“ It’s not in me, madam, I fear,” declared the 
knockaround. “ I did try it once, for a fact. Yes, 
I actually went into business.” 

“What was the line, Mr. Gregson?” asked 
Frank. 


“ Mail order business.” 


THE BALLOONIST’S RESCUE 


49 


Frank showed by the expression of his face that 
the balloonist had struck a theme of great interest 
to him. 

“ I had a partner,” went on Gregson. “ We ad- 
vertised and sold sets of rubber finger tips to pro- 
tect the hands of housewives when working about 
the house.” 

“ Was it a success? ” inquired Frank. 

“It was great — famous. The orders just 
rolled in. We made money hand over fist and 
spent it like water. One day, though, there came 
a stop to it all. A lawyer served an injunction on 
us. It seemed that the device was a French inven- 
tion patented in this country. My partner sloped 
with most of the funds, leaving me stranded. All 
the same, it’s a great business — the mail order 
line.” 

For over an hour Frank kept their guest busy an- 
swering a hundred earnest questions as to all the 
details of the mail order business. 

When Gregson had retired for the night Frank 
sat silent and thoughtful in the company of his 
mother. Finally he said. 

“ Mother, Mr. Gregson’s talk has done me a lot 
of good.” 

“ I saw you were very much interested,” re- 
marked Mrs. Ismond. 

4 


50 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

“ Interested ! ” repeated Frank with vim, unable 
to control his restless spirit and getting up and pac- 
ing the room to and fro — “ I am simply wild to 
go deeper into this mail order business. Why, it 
looks plain as day to me — the way to begin it — 
the way to exploit it — the way to make a great 
big success of it. He says that little metal novel- 
ties of the household kind take the best. I Was 
just thinking : there’s a hardware novelties factory 
right on the spot at Pleasantville, and — Down, 
Christmas, down ! ” 

The dog had interrupted Frank with a low 
growl. Then, before Frank could deter him, the 
animal flew at the open window of the sitting-room. 

Frank seized Christmas by the collar, just as the 
animal was aiming to leap clear through it to the 
garden outside. 

“ Why, what is the matter, Christmas? ” spoke 
Mrs. Ismond, arising to her feet in some surprise. 

Just then a frightful shriek rang out from under 
the open window, accompanied by the frantic 
words : 

“Help, murder, help — I’m nearly killed!” 


CHAPTER VI 


MAIL ORDER FRANK ” 

At the outcry from beyond the window of the 
little sitting-room, the dog, Christmas, became 
fairly frantic. Seizing him by the collar, however, 
Frank gave him a stern word. Wont to obey, the 
animal retreated to one side of the room, but still 
growling, and his fur bristling. 

Frank instantly caught up the lamp from the ta- 
ble and carried it to the window. His mother 
peered out in a startled way at the scene now il- 
luminated without. 

“ Why, it is Mr. Dorsett ! ” she exclaimed. 

“ As I expected,” said Frank, quietly. 

“ Frank,” murmured his mother, anxiously, 
“ what have you been doing? ” 

“ Preparing for eavesdroppers — and sneaks. 
Caught one first set of the trap, it seems,” re- 
sponded Frank in clear, loud tones. 

The captured lurker was indeed Dorsett. He 
was panting and infuriated. One foot was held 
imprisoned in a wooden spring clamp chained to a 
5i 


52 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


log in a hole in the ground. This aperture had 
been covered with light pieces of sod which Dor- 
sett was pushing aside with his cane, while he con- 
tinued to groan with pain. 

The lamplight enabled him to discern more 
clearly the trap that had caught him. He man- 
aged to pull one side of the contrivance loose and 
got his foot free. 

Wincing with pain and limping, he came closer 
to the window, boiling with rage. 

“ So you did it, and boast of it, do you? ” he 
howled at Frank. 

“ I did and do,” answered Frank calmly. 
“ This is our home, Mr. Dorsett, not a public 
highway.” 

Dorsett uttered a terrific snort of rage. He 
brandished his cane, struck out with it, and it’s end 
went through the panes of both the upper and the 
raised lower sash. 

Frank receded a step, unhurt, with the words: 

“ Very well. You will pay for that damage, I 
suppose you know. You will get no further rent 
until you repair it.” 

“ Rent ! ” roared the frenzied Dorsett. “ You’ll 
never pay me rent again. I’ll show you. Tenants 
at will, ha ! Can’t stroll around my own property, 
hey ? Why, I’ll — I’ll crush you.” 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


53 


“ Mr. Dorset*,” spoke up the widow in a digni- 
fied tone, “ it is true this is your property, but you 
have no right to spy upon us. You took away our 
dog—” 

“ Who says so — who says so? ” shouted the in- 
furiated man. 

“ Christmas himself will say so in an unmistak- 
able manner if I let him loose at you,” answered 
Frank. “ The poundmaster at Riverton might be 
a credible witness, also.” 

“ You’ll pay for this, oh, but you’ll pay for 
this ! ” snarled the wretched old man as he limped 
away to the street. 

Mrs. Ismond sank to a chair, quite pale and 
agitated over the disturbing incident of the mo- 
ment. 

“ Frank,” she said in a fluttering tone, “ that 
man alarms me. It makes me uneasy to think he 
is lurking about us all the time. I am unhappy to 
think we are subject to his caprices, where once 
he owned the property.” 

“ We own it yet, by rights,” declared Frank. 
“ Some day I may prove it to Dorsett. But do 
not worry, mother. You must have guessed from 
my interest in what Mr. Gregson said to-night, 
that I believe there is something for me in this mail 
order idea. I have not yet formed my plans, 


54 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


but I am going to get into business for myself.” 

The boy heard their guest stirring about up 
stairs, probably aroused by the window smash- 
ing. He reassured Gregson and went to bed him- 
self. 

Frank lay awake until nearly midnight thinking 
over all that Gregson had told him. He went 
mentally through every phase of the mail order 
idea that he knew anything about. 

When Frank finally fell asleep it was to dream 
of starting in business for himself. At broad day- 
light he was in a big factory which his own endeav- 
ors had built up. Around him were his busy em- 
ployes nailing up great boxes of merchandise 
ordered from all parts of the country. 

The sound of the hammers seemed still echoing 
in his ears as he was aroused by the voice of his 
mother from her own room. 

“ Frank! Frank! ” she called. 

“ Yes, mother,” he answered, springing out of 
bed. 

“ Some one is knocking at the front door.” 

“ Knocking? ” repeated Frank, hurrying into his’ 
'clothes. “ That’s no knocking, it sounds more 
like hammering.” 

Christmas was barking furiously. The ham- 
mering had ceased by the time Frank had got down 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


55 


the stairs and to the front door. He unlocked it 
quickly. 

At the end of the graveled walk, just turning 
into the street was old Dorsett. He waved a ham- 
mer in his hand malignantly as he noticed Frank. 

“ We’ll see if I am to have free range of my 
own premises,” he shouted. “ Young man, you 
get your traps out of here within the time limit of 
the law, or I’ll throw you into the street, bag and 
baggage.” 

Frank saw that Dorsett had just nailed a square 
white sheet of paper across the door panel. He 
stood reading it over as his mother came out onto 
the porch. 

“ Was that Mr. Dorsett, Frank? ” she inquired. 

“ Yes, some more of his friendly work.” 

“ What is it, Frank?” 

“ A five-days’ notice to quit,” answered Frank. 

Mrs. Ismdnd scanned the legal document with a 
pale and troubled face. Frank affected unconcern 
and indifference. 

“ Don’t let that worry you, mother,” he said, 
leading her back into the house. 

“ But, Frank, he can put us out! ” 

“ If we stay to let him, probably. The law he 
has invoked to rob us, may also enable him to evict 
us, mother, but he won’t win in the end. You say 


56 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

you dislike the place. Very well, we will move.” 

“ But where to, Frank? ” 

“ This isn’t the only house in Greenville, is it, 
mother? ” asked Frank, smiling reassuringly. 

“ What’s more, Greenville isn’t the only town in 
creation. Stop your fretting, now. I’ve got a 
grand plan, and I am sure to carry it out. Just 
leave everything to me. My head is just bursting 
with all the ideas that interesting balloonist has put 
into it. Why, mother, if I can only get a start, if 
I can get hold of a few novelties and do a little 
advertising — ” 

“ Oh, Frank, it takes money to do all that! ” 

“ And brains. Mostly brains and industry, Mr. 
Gregson says. Mother, now or soon, here, at 
Greenville or somewhere else, I am determined to 
give the mail order idea a trial.” 

“ Mail order, Frank?” 

“ Capital! excellent! ” cried Frank with enthu- 
siasm. “ Why, mother, you have suggested the 
very catchy name. I will use to advertise by — 
‘ Mail Order Frank ’ ! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


STRICTLY BUSINESS 

The balloonist, Park Gregson, needed rest 
after his strenuous experience of the previous day, 
so Frank did not disturb him. He and his mother 
had their breakfast together, then Frank started 
out on his usual daily round of duties. 

He did his chores about the house. Then he 
went down to the eight o’clock train to get a bun- 
dle of daily newspapers from the city. These he 
delivered to his regular customers. At nine 

o’clock he went to the office of Mr. Beach, the 

% 

lawyer. 

Frank was informed by the attorney’s clerk that 
Mr. Beach had left Greenville to see a distant 
client. He would not be back for two days. 

“ I need somebody’s advice about this five-day 
notice of Mr. Dorsett,” reflected Frank, and pro- 
ceeded to visit the insurance man, Mr. Buckner. 

“Good!” exclaimed the latter briskly, as 
Frank put in an appearance, “ I was just about to 
send for you.” 


57 


58 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ To send for me? ” repeated Frank. 

“Yes, I told you that you might expect some 
further business commissions from me, you remem- 
ber ?” 

“ Yes, Mr. Buckner.’’ 

“ Well, they have materialized. Can you give 
me your time unrestrictedly for a week or ten 
days? ” 

“ Why — yes, I think so,” answered Frank, but 
somewhat slowly, for he thought of their family 
complications. 

Mr. Buckner was a keen-witted man. He read 
something under the surface in Frank’s hesitancy. 

“Something troubling you, Frank?” he sug- 
gested. 

“ Oh, nothing serious, Mr. Buckner. It seems 
we have offended Mr. Dorsett. He is our land- 
lord. He has ordered us to leave the house we 
rent from him within five days.” 

“ Hum, the old curmudgeon ! His house ! I 
wonder whose it would be if some of his clever ras- 
cality was investigated? ” 

“Well, I suppose we have got to go,” said 
Frank. “ He is ugly and determined.” 

“ Oh, that difficulty can be easily solved,” de- 
clared Mr. Buckner, lightly. “ You know the va- 
cant store front on Cedar street? I am agent for 


STRICTLY BUSINESS 


59 


that property, owner a non-resident. There are 
five nice, comfortable living rooms upstairs. It’s 
only two blocks’ move for you. If it suits you, 
make the move. You need pay no rent until you 
decide where you wish to locate permanently.” 

“ You are very kind,” said Frank. 

“ Why — never thought of it ! ” exclaimed Mr. 
Buckner, with new animation of manner and voice. 
“ The very thing, it exactly fits ! ” 

• “ What do you mean? ” inquired Frank. 

“ Sit down, and I’ll explain. You took a check 
yesterday to pay for some salvage at a fire at 
Riverton.” 

“ Yes, sir,” nodded Frank. 

“ I notified my client last night by telegraph of 
our success. He’s a Lancaster man, in the hard- 
ware line. He ran up to Greenville last evening 
to see me. It seems that Morton, the man burned 
out at Riverton, was also in the hardware line. 
Everything he had was burned up in the fire. 
When they came to clear the wreck, they found all 
the metal stock he carried massed in among the 
ashes in the cellar. The insurance company had 
it put in big packing cases. It was all mixed up, 
some of the stock damaged entirely. My client, 
however, decided that it might net him a profit on 
the two hundred dollars he paid for it.” 


6o 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ I see,” said Frank. 

“ What he has engaged me to do, is to go or 
send to Riverton and get the stuff carted over here. 
Then he wants the rubbish gone over, and the 
good stuff selected and sorted out. It seems that 
Morton had been neglecting his regular hardware 
business for some time. He invented an apple 
corer that wouldn’t core very well. He bought a 
lot of little stuff, such as initial buttons, needles 
and the like, and was trying to get into the mail 
order business, when the fire came along.” 

“The mail order business?” said Frank in a 
quick breath. 

“ Yes. Now he’s going to take his insurance 
money and buy an interest in some publishing busi- 
ness in the city. Well, you can see that a little 
time and care may result in picking out quite a lot 
of really valuable stuff from the mass, brushing it 
up and all that.” 

“ Yes, indeed,” murmured Frank. 

“We can store the plunder in the Cedar Street 
building. You take charge of it, hire what help 
you need, and I’ll divide with you what I charge 
my client for my services. Pretty liberal, ain’t I 
now, Frank?” asked Mr. Buckner, with a smile. 
“ You doing all the work, and me getting a full 
half of the pay.” 


STRICTLY BUSINESS 


61 


“ Yes, but you are the directing genius of the af- 
fair, you know,” suggested Frank pleasantly. 

“ Oh, I can direct all right, if you will do the 
hustling,” laughed the insurance man. “ Settled, 
is it? All right. My client thinks it will take a 
week or ten days to sort the stuff into some kind of 
shape. He’ll be here to inspect progress next Sat- 
urday. You make your arrangements, and draw 
five dollars a day.” 

Frank was quite stunned at the munificent offer. 

“ I trust you implicitly, Frank,” went on his 
kind friend. “ Here is a letter to the custodian of 
the property at Riverton, and here is twenty dol- 
lars to carry around with you to meet any expense 
that may come up. Hire the moving teams as 
cheaply as you can, store the boxes at the Cedar 
Street place. I leave the details entirely to you. 
When can you start in ? ” 

“ Right now,” replied Frank promptly. 

“ All right, get into action.” 

Frank was proud and pleased as he hurried back 
home. He did not let the grass grow under his 
feet, but neither did he go off in a wild tangent 
that might disorder things. He was all business 
and system. 

First, he reported to his mother. They decided 
to move at once. Then he sought out Nelson 


62 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Cady, a close chum, and commissioned him to 
look after his evening paper route and other odd 
jobs he did daily. Frank decided he could save 
money by hiring home talent to do the moving of 
the salvage stuff. He was not much acquainted at 
Riverton. The teamsters there might be extor- 
tionate, as it was a double trip for the wagons. 

Within an hour’s time Frank had made an ex- 
cellent bargain, and all interested were duly satis- 
fied with the arrangement. An honest old negro 
named Eben Johnson, who carted ashes and other 
refuse for the town, was not doing much that espe- 
cial day. He agreed to lease his two teams and 
one driver for twelve hours for seven dollars and 
the keep of man and horses. 

Frank knew he could make no more economical 
arrangement than this. By eleven o’clock he was 
on the way to Riverton, acting himself as driver of 
one of the teams. 

The driver of the other team was a good-na- 
tured though rather shiftless fellow, named Boyle. 
When they reached Riverton, Frank took him to a 
restaurant, gave him the best meal he had ever 
eaten, and made the fellow his friend for life. 
The horses were given a first class feed and a 
good rest. 

Frank found he had to handle eight immense 


STRICTLY BUSINESS 


63 


packing cases and one zinc box. This latter was 
full of books and papers. These went to the pur- 
chaser, it seemed, along with the “ good will ” of 
the business. 

The eight packing cases were tremendously 
heavy. A glance at their contents showed Frank 
a confused jumble. There were hammers and 
hatchets with their handles burned off, saws and 
chisels, blackened, and some of them burned out 
of shape by the fire. There were nails, tacks, 
hinges, keys, door knobs, in fact a confusing mass 
of mixed hardware of every description. 

Frank and his man could not handle four of the 
cases alone. The lad had to hire a couple of 
men to help them load these onto the wagons. As 
they got all ready to start for home, the custodian 
came up with a little wizened man with a Jewish 
cast of countenance, and introduced him as Mr. 
Moss. 

“ There’s a lot of junk not worth carting away 
over at the ruins,” explained the custodian to 
Frank. “ This man wants to buy it.” 

“ All right,” said Frank, “ let him make an 
offer.” 

“ Mein frient, two dollars would be highway 
robbery for dot oldt stuff,” asserted the junk 
dealer, with a characteristic shrug of his shoulders. 


6 4 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Is that your offer, Mr. Moss? ” asked Frank 
in a business-like tone. 

“ I vill gif it chust to spite oldt Isaacs, my com- 
betitor,” declared Moss. 

“ Well, we will go and take a look at the stuff,” 
said Frank. 

“ Mein frient, dot vos useless,” insisted Moss. 
“Time ish monish. Tree tollars! ” 

“ No,” said Frank definitely. “ I always calcu- 
late to know what I’m about.” 

He left the wagons, and accompanied by Moss 
soon reached the blackened ruins of the hardware 
store. 

Just as they arrived there, a shrewd-faced little 
urchin approaching them halted, and gave both a 
keen look. 

“ Hoo! ” he yelled— “ I must tell vader! ” 

Moss threw his cane after the disappearing 
urchin, and looked perturbed and anxious. 

“ Dot vos de stuff,” he explained, pointing out 
two cindery piles back of the ruins. 

“ Why,” said Frank, poking in and out among 
the debris, “ there is quite a heap of it.” 

“ Ashes, mein frient, ashes,” suavely observed 
the junk dealer. 

“ Not at all,” retorted Frank. “ Here is a 
stove, all but the top. Here are a lot of hoes and 


STRICTLY BUSINESS 


65 


rakes, twisted a little, but not entirely worthless. 
Both heaps are nearly all solid metal. There must 
be over a ton of iron here.” 

“ Four tollars — I tell you vot I do : four tol- 
lars,” said Moss fervently. 

Frank shook his head and continued to look 
calculatingly at the blackened heaps. 

“ Five tollars,” spoke Moss with sudden unction. 
“'Mein tear younug frient — cash. Say nodings. 
Dere vos de monish.” 

But Frank looked resolutely away from the bank 
note tendered as a near shout rang out. 

A stout, clumsy man had come lumbering 
around the corner at his best gait, in a frantic state 
of excitement. 

He was in his shirt sleeves, drenched with per- 
spiration and waving his arms wildly. Beside him 
ran the urchin Frank had before noticed. It was 
apparent that he had succeeded in satisfying his 
father that a sale of the fire debris was on. 

“ Mishter, Mishter,” he called, “ it is Ezekiels 
Isaacs. I vill puy de goods. How mooch is of- 
fered?” 

“ Five dollars so far,” repeated Frank tran- 
quilly. 

“ Six,” instantly bolted out the newcomer. 

“ Seven ! ” snarled Moss. 

5 


66 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


u Ten tollars,” pronounced the other, pulling 
out a fat pocketbook. 

“ Gentlemen,” said Frank. “ I have made up 
my mind. You must start your real bids at dou- 
ble that, or I cannot entertain an offer.” 

“ Yesh,” cried Moss eagerly — “twenty tol- 
lars.” 

“ Und a kee-varter ! ” howled his rival. 

“ Un a hal-luf ! ” 

“ Tage it!” roared Moss, waving his cane in 
impotent rage, and turned away disgusted. 

“ Of course you gif me four per cent, discount 
for cash? ” demanded the successful bidder. 

“ Of course I shall not,” dissented Frank. 
“ Shall I call back Mr. Moss? No? Thanks, — 
that is correct, twenty dollars and fifty cents. 
Here is a receipt. 

Frank felt that he had closed an exceptionally 
good sale. Within half-an-hour the wagons were 
started on their way for Greenville. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A STEP FORWARD 

The return trip took three hours. It was just 
five o’clock when the wagons drew up in front of 
the store front building on Cedar Street, in Green- 
ville. 

A man whom Mr. Buckner had hired was 
sweeping out the place. With his aid and that of 
another helper, the big packing cases were stowed 
in the main floor room as Frank wanted them. 

Frank had just paid off the two outsiders, when 
the man he had leased the wagons from drove up 
in a light vehicle. He was all smiles. He looked 
over the horses and turned to Frank. 

“ Mistah Newton, sah,” he observed, “ the 
mussiful man am kind to his beast. Ah see dem 
hosses in good trim, sah, and am obleeged. Sah, 
you am a good-luck boy. Like to hire you as my 
manager, sah, ef I had enough money. Ha ! 
Ha!” 

“ Where does the good luck come in, Mr. John- 
son?” inquired Frank smilingly. 

67 


68 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Ah tell you ’bout dat, sah. Logic am logic. 
Theyfoh, it follows ef I’d gone up to dat no-good, 
cheap hauling for de lumbah comp’ny I’d been out 
five dollahs, ’cause you paid me seben, ’sides hav- 
ing de hosses worked to death. Again, sah, de 
suckamstance am dis: I happened to be in town 
when a stranger gen’man came ’long and hiahed 
me to drive him into de woods. Got another gen’- 
man from your house. I helped dem get a b’loon 
down from a tree, load it on de wagon and took 
it to de train. One ob de gen’mans knew you ’ticu- 
larly, sah.” 

“ Yes, Mr. Gregson,” murmured Frank. 
“ Did both leave town? ” 

“ Yes, sah, with the b’loon.” 

Frank was sorry he had not seen his entertain- 
ing acquaintance before he went away. Mr. John- 
son continued : 

“ Rar gen’man, dose, ’specially dat professor. 
What think, sah? He say: ‘ How much am dis 
exertion on youah part worth, Mistah Johnsing? ’ 
and when I say, 1 Bout eight bits, Mistah Profes- 
sor,’ he laugh and gib me a five dollah gold piece. 
And de other gen’man say to me confimadentially : 
4 Mistah Johnsing, please tell young Mistah New- 
ton I shall write to him, and when I get making a 
little money I shall do myself de pleashah of send- 


A STEP FORWARD 


69 


ing him a gold watch and chain, and dat dog* of his 
a gold collah.’ Deed he did, sah.” 

Frank laughed pleasantly, believing that “ Mis- 
tah Johnsing ” was romancing a trifle. Then he 
said: “ I believe our contract on the teams was 
for twelve hours’ service, Mr. Johnson? ” 

“ Dat am correct, sah.” 

“ If you say so, I will give them a good feed 
and do our moving from the house to the rooms 
upstairs here. Of course I will pay your man for 
the extra labor.” 

“ Dat am highly satisfact’ry to me, Mistah 
Newton.” 

The two teams were driven over to the cottage 
and unhitched in front of it. Frank rigged up a 
convenient feed trough, gave the horses their oats, 
and invited Boyle to join him at supper. 

Frank had talked over the moving question with 
his mother that morning. He found that she had 
put in a busy day. All the pictures were removed 
from the walls and neatly encased in newspapers. 
The books had been placed in boxes; everything, 
even to the beds, carried from upstairs. 

Notwithstanding all this, Mrs. Ismond spread 
out an appetizing meal for the two workers. 

“ Mother, this really won’t do,” remonstrated 
Frank seriously. 


70 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ What won’t do, my son? ” asked his mother, 
smiling. 

“ Carrying those heavy things down stairs.” 

“ But I did not do that — at least not all of 
it,” the widow hastened to say. “ Your friend, 
Nelson Cady, happened along about three o’clock. 
Nothing would do but he must lend a helping 
hand. Then his chums found him out. They 
were soon in service, too.” 

Just as Frank finished his supper there were 
cheery boyish hails outside. Nelson and five of 
his cohorts animatedly demanded that they become 
part and parcel in the fun and excitement of mov- 
ing. 

Soon there was a procession carrying various 
articles to the rooms on Cedar Street. The 
wagons took the heavy furniture and such like. 
Just at dark the last had left the cottage. Look- 
ing back, Frank saw Mr. Dorsett sneaking into his 
empty house from the rear. 

“ He doesn’t look particularly happy, now he 
has had his own way,” reflected Frank. “ I hope 
mother doesn’t take the change to heart.” 

His first question was along that very line, as 
the last chair was set in place in the new family 
habitation. 

“ Sad, Frank? ” said his mother — “ no, indeed! 


A STEP FORWARD 


7i 


When we were forced from the old home on the 
hill a year ago, I was very sorrowful. It is a posi- 
tive relief now, though, to get out of the shadow 
of Mr. Dorsett and all belonging to him. It is 
nice, and home-like and cozy here, and I am sure 
we shall be very comfortable and happy in our new 
home.” 

Many hands had aided in bestowing the family 
goods just where Mrs. Ismond wanted them. 
There was very little tidying up to do half-an-hour 
after Frank had dismissed the teamster, with a dol- 
lar for his extra work. 

Then he led a gay procession down the principal 
village street. They entered a little ice cream 
parlor, and Frank “ treated ” — one ice cream and 
a glass of soda water all around. 

“ I want to see you, Nelson, as early in the morn- 
ing as I can,” said Frank, as they separated for the 
night. 

“ Business? ” inquired Nelson, in a serious way. 

“ Why, yes. Truth is, I can put some loose 
change in your pocket, if you care to undertake a 
ten-days’ job I have in hand.” 

Nelson shook his head dubiously, with a very 
important air. 

“ Dunno,” he said calculatingly. “ You see, I 
am expecting a letter any day now.” 


72 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Frank smiled to himself. Nelson had been 
“ expecting a letter ” every day for a year. Every 
boy in the village knew this, and occasionally guyed 
and jollied him about it. 

Nelson’s great ambition was to become a cow- 
boy. On one occasion he had run away from 
home, bound for far-away Idaho. He got as far 
as the city, was nearly starved and half-frozen, and 
came home meekly the next day. 

His father gave him a good, sensible talk. He 
tried to convince Nelson that he was too young to 
undertake the rough life of a cowboy. This fail- 
ing, he agreed that if Nelson would get some re- 
spectable stockman in Idaho to ensure him a regu- 
lar berth for a year, he would let him go west and 
pay his fare there. 

Since then Nelson had spent nearly all the pocket 
money he could earn writing to people in Idaho, 
from the Governor down. Nobody seemed to 
want an inexperienced, home-bred boy to round 
their stock, however. Still, Nelson kept on hop- 
ing and trying. 

“ I’ll risk your letter coming before your con- 
tract with me is finished, Nelson,” said Frank 
kindly. “ About this cowboy business, though — 
take my advice and that of your good, kind father: 
don’t waste your best young years just for the sake 


A STEP FORWARD 


73 


of novelty and adventure. No ambitious boy can 
afford it.” 

“ But I have a longing for the wild ranch life,” 
said Nelson earnestly. 

u All right, then do your duty to those at home, 
earn a good start here, where you have friends to 
help you, and begin with a ranch of your own. 
When I have made enough money, I would like 
to run a ranch myself. But I want to own it. I 
want to make a business investment — not fun and 
frolic — out of it.” 

“ All right, I’ll be on hand in the morning,” 
promised Nelson. 

“ I have been saving a surprise for you, Frank, 
said his mother, as he rejoined her about nine 
o’clock. “What do you think? Your friend, 
Mr. Gregson, insisted on leaving you twenty-five 
dollars.” 

“Oh, that won’t do at all!” cried Frank in- 
stantly. 

“ The professor, who was with him, insisted 
that it must. Besides, they left all sorts of kind 
regards for you.” 

Frank’s was a truly grateful heart. It had been 
a splendid day for him. He took up a lamp and 
went downstairs, whistling happily. 

“ There’s a lot of work to do here,” he said, go- 


74 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


ing from box to box, flashing the light across the 
contents. “ There must be a million needles in 
that packing case. Poor Morton’s apple corer — 
there’s several thousands of those. And here’s a 
great jumble of lawn mower repair material.” 

Frank stood mapping out how he would handle 
the mass of stuff. About to leave the room, he 
set down the lamp and curiously inspected the zinc 
box that had apparently been the burned-out hard- 
ware man’s safe. 

It was filled with papers of various kinds: re- 
ceipted bills, statements of accounts and letters. 
Many of these latter were from mail customers 
who had bought the apple corer and were dissatis- 
fied with its operation. 

Many of the papers were partly burned away. 
All were grimed with smoke. Finally from the 
very bottom of the box Frank fished up a square 
package. Opening this, he found it to be some 
part of a mail order office equipment. 

Frank’s eye sparkled. There were several sheets 
of cardboard. On each of them a colored map of 
a State of the Union was printed. Each town had 
a hole near it. This was to hold minute wooden 
pegs of different hues, each color designating 
“ written to,” or “ first customer,” or “ agent,” and 
the like. 


A STEP FORWARD 


75 


At a glance Frank took in the value and utility 
of this outfit. As he drew some typewritten sheets 
from a big manilla envelope, he grew positively ex- 
cited at the grand discovery he had made. 

“ Fifty thousand names! ” exclaimed Frank — 
“ possible mail order customers all over the coun- 
try! Oh, if this outfit were only mine! Can I 
get it, or its duplicate? Why,” he said, in a 
fervent, deep-drawn breath, “ circumstances seem 
absolutely pushing me into the mail order busi- 
ness ! ” 


CHAPTER IX 


SENSE AND SYSTEM 

Frank was up and stirring before six o’clock 
the next morning. He felt like a person begin- 
ning life brand-new again. 

When his mother appeared half-an-hour later, 
she found everything tidied up, including Frank 
himself, who hurried through a good, hearty break- 
fast with an important business engagement in 
view. 

“ You will excuse me for calling at your home 
instead of the office,” said Frank to Mr. Buckner, 
a little later. 

“ That’s all right, Frank,” declared the insur- 
ance man, shaking hands heartily with his early 
caller. “ Time is money, and of course you want 
to utilize it to the best advantage. Well, what’s 
the news ? ” 

Frank recited the progress of the day previous. 
When he came to tell of the sale of the old junk 
at Riverton, his host laughed till the tears ran 
down his cheeks. 


76 


SENSE AND SYSTEM 


77 


“ You’ll do, Frank,” he observed with enthu- 
siasm — “ decidedly, you’ll do! You got the mov- 
ing done at just half what I expected to pay, and 
collected twenty dollars and a half we never knew 
a word about.” 

“ Then you want me to go on getting the burned 
stuff in order, do you? ” inquired Frank. 

“ Certainly — that was all understood, wasn’t 
it? I’ll try and drop around to-day or to-morrow 
and take a look at the plunder, just out of curiosity. 
As to getting it in shape for my client’s inspection, 
I leave that in your able charge exclusively.” 

“ Thank you,” said Frank. 

Nelson Cady was piping a cheery whistle in 
front of the store when Frank got home. 

“ Got no letter yet,” he announced in his old 
important way, “ so I reckon I can give you a lift, 
Frank.” 

“Good for you,” commended Frank. “You 
know how to work all right when you want to, 
Nelson.” 

Frank unlocked the store door with a proud 
sense of proprietorship. Both entered the long, 
rambling room. 

“ Now then, Nelson,” said Frank, “ I offer you 
ten cents an hour, and make you superintendent of 
the little plant here.” 


78 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ What am I expected to superintend? ” asked 
Nelson. 

“ Did you notify any of the boys? ” 

“ Oh, yes — I could get an army of them, if 
needed.” 

“ I think about half-a-dozen will answer,” said 
Frank. 

“ They’ll be here shortly all right,” responded 
Nelson. “ It’s vacation, and — there’s the first ar- 
rival now.” 

A curly-pated, eager-faced little urchin popped 
in through the open doorway. 

“ Hey, Nelse, am I early enough?” he asked 
anxiously. 

“ Five cents an hour,” announced Frank, with a 
welcoming smile. 

“ Oh, my! ” cried the little fellow — “ five times 
twenty-four is, let me see — a naught and two to 
carry, a dollar and twenty cents. Whoop! ” 

“ Here, here, you don’t suppose we’re going to 
work all day and all night, too, do you?” said 
Nelson. “ Eight hours will tire you out soon 
enough. 

“ Forty cents a day, then,” cried the little fel- 
low. “Say, I’ll be rich!” 

Within the next ten minutes as many as a dozen 


SENSE AND SYSTEM 


79 


other boys arrived. The news of Frank Newton 
having work to be done, had spread like wildfire 
among juvenile Greenville. All hands begged for 
employment, but Frank could not hire all of them. 
He engaged first boys whose families needed help, 
and promised the others they should work as sub- 
stitutes when any of the original employes dropped 
out of the ranks. 

“ Now then, friends,” said Frank, as soon as the 
hiring business was disposed of, 44 Nelson Cady 
will direct what you are to do. You had better all 
of you go home first and put on the oldest duds you 
can find, for this is going to be dirty work. Look 
here, Nelson.” 

Frank had got a big piece of chalk at a car- 
penter’s shop on his way home from the interview 
with Mr. Buckner. 

With this he now divided the floor space of one 
whole side of the store into sections about six feet 
square. 

“ You see, Nelson,” he said to his superintend- 
ent, 44 first you tip over one of those big packing 
cases onto the floor.” 

44 All right, Frank.” 

44 Then begin picking out an article at a time. 
Suppose it is a hammer comes first: write with 


8o 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


chalk on the edge of a section ‘ Hammers,’ and 
then group all the hammers you find by them- 
selves.” 

“ I understand,” nodded Nelson. 

“ Label all the squares plainly. Mass every- 
thing of its class in distinct heaps. That is the 
first start in your work.” 

Frank had some of his regular village chores to 
do. He was gone over an hour attending to va- 
rious duties. 

As he came back to the store again, Frank was 
spurred up by the busy hum of industry. Half-a- 
dozen urchins peering enviously in at the open 
front door made way for him. He gave them a 
kind word and stepped inside to take a sweeping 
view of his juvenile working force. 

A great rattlety-bang was going on as the boys 
pulled over the heap of debris. Hands and faces 
were grimed. There were some blistered fingers, 
but the boys were working like bees in a hive. 

The chalked-off sections had begun to grow in 
number. One was labelled “ Needles.” Frank 
stared in some wonder. There were papers of 
needles whole, and others with half their original 
paper coverings burned away, of loose needles, 
some rusted and blackened, some still bright and 


SENSE AND SYSTEM 


81 


shining; there seemed to be thousands upon thou- 
sands. 

Then there was a lot of pieces of lawn mowers, 
blades, wheels, screws, cogs and axles. Hinges of 
all sizes and qualities showed up prominently. 
Pocket knives, scissors and carpenter tools were 
likewise greatly in evidence. 

One pile was growing rapidly with the minutes. 
This was a heap of apple corers. It was a con- 
trivance with a small wooden knob. A screw held 
a tapering piece of thin metal, which penetrated the 
centre of an apple. Then a twist was supposed to 
cut out the core. 

From letters in the zinc box which Frank had 
read, he knew that purchasers of this device had 
complained about it greatly. In the first place it 
was arbitrarily set for one uniform cut. No mat- 
ter whether the apple to be operated on was large 
or small, the hole made was exactly the same. If 
the fruit was hard and crisp, according to the let- 
ters of complaint the corer split the apple. If it 
was soft, the corer mushed the apple. There were 
already sorted out several hundreds of these cor- 
ers. Frank wished he could get hold of them and 
improve them. 

Frank looked over all the selected stuff in view. 

6 


82 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Then he went in turn to the village blacksmith, the 
local hardware store and to a druggist friend. 
He returned with some sponges, soft rags, sand- 
paper and a can of oil. He chalked off new spaces 
at the rear end of the store, three being devoted to 
each article labelled. Then he ordered his helpers 
to grade the various utensils dug out of the debris. 
Thus, hammers : those burned beyond practical use 
were put in heap one, second best, heap two ; those 
that were only slightly marred were placed in heap 
three. 

When Mr. Buckner came to the store the follow- 
ing day at noon the work had progressed famously. 
The insurance man was greatly gratified at the lay- 
out. 

“ Sense and system,” he said, and told Frank he 
was proud of him. 

Certainly Frank had proceeded on a routine that 
was bound to bring good results. What he called 
the finished, product was now strongly in evidence. 
He had divided his working force. Five of the 
small boys helped him in getting all the salable 
stuff sorted by itself. 

Mr. Buckner’s client did not put in an appear- 
ance until the following Tuesday. By that time 
the place looked more like a real hardware store 
than a repairing shop. 


SENSE AND SYSTEM 


S3 


All the best stuff was classified and neatly laid 
out. The hardware man from Lancaster made 
one sweeping inspection of the various piles of 
merchandise. There was quite a delighted ex- 
pression on his face as he turned to Frank. 

“ Young man,” he said, “ Mr. Buckner pre- 
pared me to meet a brisk, enterprising fellow of 
about your size, but the way you have handled 
this business is a marvel.” 

Frank flushed with pleasure. 

“ Right at the start,” continued his visitor, “ I 
offer you a good, permanent position in my store 
at Lancaster at eight dollars a week.” 

“ I thank you greatly,” replied Frank, “ but I 
have partly decided on some other plans with my 
mother.” 

“ All right. If you change your mind, come to 
me. Now then, to size up this proposition in de- 
tail.” 

The speaker looked into and over everything. 
When he had gone one round he picked up an 
empty red cardboard box and began to cut it up 
into small squares. 

“ I seem to have made a fine investment, Buck- 
ner,” he said to the insurance man. “ There’s 
over two hundred dollars in those lawn mower 
parts alone. The regular stuff like tools and cut- 


8 4 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


lery are good for as much more. See here, New- 
ton: I am going to put one of these red card- 
board squares on all the lots I wish you to ship to 
me at Lancaster.” 

“ Yes, sir,” nodded Frank. 

“ Get some strong boxes and pack the stuff well, 
send by freight.” 

The hardware merchant now went from pile to 
pile, placing the red bits of cardboard on about 
two-thirds of the stuff. 

“ Aren’t you going to take those needles? ” in- 
quired Buckner, noticing that his client had passed 
them by. “ Why, there’s fully a million of them.” 

“ No use for them.” 

“ And this big pile of apple corers? ” 

The hardware man shrugged his shoulders. 

“ No,” he said plumply. “ They busted Mor- 
ton. If he couldn’t make them go, I can’t.” 

“ And those other heaps of second-best stuff? ” 
inquired Frank. a I should think they would sell 
for something.” 

“ And spoil the sale of good-profit goods. No, 
no. That’s poor business policy. I shall make 
double good as it is. Just dump the balance into 
some junk shop. Whatever you get for it you 
can keep, Newton.” 

“ Oh, sir,” interrupted Frank quickly, u you 


SENSE AND SYSTEM 


85 


hardly estimate the real value there. Why, any- 
one taking the trouble to put those needles up into 
packages could clean up a good many dollars. 
There’s a lot of sewing machine needles there, too. 
They are worth three for five cents anywhere.” 

“ All right,” retorted his employer with an ex- 
pansive smile. “ You do it, Newton, I w r on’t. 
Take the stuff with my compliments, and thank you 
in the bargain for all the pains you have gone to in 
turning me out a first-class job.” 

“Takes your breath away, does it, Frank?” 
said Buckner, with a friendly nudge. “ It will 
give you some interesting dabbling to do for quite 
a time to come, eh? ” 

“ Yes, indeed,” murmured Frank, his eyes shin- 
ing bright with pleasure. He was fairly overcome 
at the unexpected donation. He seized the hard- 
ware man’s hand and shook it fervently. “ Sir,” 
he said gratefully, “ I feel that you have given me 
my start in life.” 

“Have I?” laughed his employer lightly. 
“ Glad. Well, the matter’s settled,” he con- 
tinued, consulting his watch — “ I must catch my 
train.” 

“ One little matter, please,” said Frank, advanc- 
ing to the zinc box and throwing back its cover. 

He rapidly described what it contained, includ- 


86 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


ing the lists of names and the mail order routing 
cards. 

The hardware man listened in a bored, impatient 
way. 

“ Don’t want any of the truck,” he said. 
“ Burn it up, do what you want with it. Get that 
freight on to me quick as you can, Newton. Buck- 
ner here will settle your bill for services. Good- 
bye.” 

Frank Newton stood like one in a dream after 
his visitors had departed. 

A great wave of hope, ambition, the grandest 
anticipations filled his mind. 

“ Mine ! ” he said, passing slowly from heap to 
heap consigned to him as a free gift. “ Mine,” 
he repeated, his hand resting on the zinc box. 
“ At least fifty dollars in cash out of the work I 
have done, and the basis of a regular business in 
what that man has given me. Oh, what a royal 
start ! ” 


CHAPTER X 


A VISIT TO THE CITY 

“ It almost frightens me ! ” said Frank New- 
ton’s mother. 

The speaker looked quite serious, as she sat fac- 
ing her son, who had just read over to her the con- 
tents of several closely-written sheets of paper. 

“ It needn’t, mother,” answered Frank with a 
bright, reassuring smile. “ Mr. Buckner gave me 
my motto when I started in at this work. It was 
4 Sense and System.’ They seem to win.” 

44 Yes, Frank, and I am very proud and happy 
to see you so much in earnest, and so successful.” 

“ I have over one hundred dollars in hand,” pro- 
ceeded Frank. “ We shall get fully as much more 
from the sale of our assorted needle packages and 
the general junk stuff down stairs. Mother, I call 
that pretty fine luck for three weeks’ work.” 

44 You have certainly been very fortunate,” mur- 
mured Mrs. Ismond. 

44 Then if it is a streak of fortune solely,” said 
Frank, 44 I propose to make it the basis of my 
87 


88 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


bigger experiment. Yes, mother, I have fully de- 
cided I shall get into the mail order business right 
away. The first step in that direction is to see 
Mr. Morton, the Riverton hardware merchant who 
was burned out. He has gone into some book con- 
cern in the city. I shall go there on the night 
train, see him, and then I will know definitely 
where I stand.” 

“ Is it necessary to see him?” asked Frank’s 
mother. “ Mr. Buckner says that everything he 
left at the fire was sold as salvage. The Lancaster 
man made you a present of that old zinc box. I 
don’t see, having abandoned it, how Mr. Morton 
has any further claim on it.” 

“ That is because you have not thought over the 
matter as much as I have,” observed Frank. 
“ Perhaps Mr. Morton doesn’t know that the 
papers in the zinc box were nearly all saved. No, 
mother, I intend to start my business career on 
clean, clear lines. I feel it my duty to apprise Mr. 
Morton of the true condition of things. If I lose 
by it, all right. I have acted according to the 
dictates of my conscience.” 

Mrs. Ismond glanced fondly and fervently at 
Frank. Her approbation of his sentiments 
showed in her glistening eyes. 

A week had passed by since the Lancaster man 


A VISIT TO THE CITY 


had settled up with Frank. It had been a busy, 
bustling week for the embryo young mail order 
merchant and his assistants. 

Frank had got his employees to sort out the 
myriad of needles into lots of twenty-four. He 
bought some little pay envelopes, and had printed 
on these: “Frank’s Mail Order House. Two 
Dozen Assorted Needles.” 

As said before, this was vacation time. There 
was scarcely a boy in Greenville who did not take 
a turn at selling the needle packages, which Frank 
wholesaled at six cents each. 

Most of the boys sold a few packages at home 
and to immediate neighbors, and then quit work. 
Others, however, made a regular business of it. 
Nelson Cady took in two partners, borrowed a 
light gig, and to date had met with signal success 
in covering other towns in the county. 

“ Why,” he had declared enthusiastically to 
Frank only that evening, when he handed over the 
cash for two hundred new packages of the needles, 
which Mrs. Ismond was kept busy putting up, “ if 
the needles hold out, I could extend and extend 
my travelling trips and work my way clear to 
Idaho.” 

“ You are certainly making more than ex- 
penses,” said Frank encouragingly. 


90 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Yes, but you see ” — with his usual seriousness 
explained Nelson, “ that letter may come any day, 
and I want to be on hand to get it.” 

“ Of course,” nodded Frank gravely, but he felt 
that poor Nelson’s hopes were like those of the 
man whose ship never came in. 

While his young assistants were thus earning 
good pocket money and Frank was accumulating 
more and more capital daily, he kept up a power- 
ful thinking. 

A limitless field of endeavor seemed spread out 
before him. The handling of the salvage stock 
had been a positive education to him. 

“ I see where the Riverton hardware man 
failed,” Frank said to himself many times, “ and I 
think I know how I can succeed.” 

Frank packed up the contents of the zinc box 
in a satchel with a couple of clean collars, cuffs 
and handkerchiefs, and consulted a railway time- 
table. 

“ If I take the train that goes through Green- 
ville at three o’clock in the morning, mother,” he 
said, “ I arrive at the city at exactly ten o’clock. 
Just the hour for business.” 

“Well, then, after supper you lay down and 
sleep till two o’clock. I will busy myself putting 
up some more of the needles,” suggested Mrs. 


A VISIT TO THE CITY 


9i 


Ismond. “ I will have a little early morning lunch 
ready for you, and you can start off rested.” 

“ Thank you,” said Frank warmly. “ It’s 
worth working for such a mother as you.” 

Frank reached the deserted railway depot of 
Greenville in time for the train. Nearly every- 
body was dozing in the car he entered. He had a 
seat to himself, and plenty of time and opportunity 
for reflection. 

Frank consulted the sheets of writing he had 
read to his mother the evening previous. They 
contained his business plans. He had figured out 
what two hundred dollars would do towards start- 
ing a modest mail order business. However, so 
much depended on the result of his interview with 
Mr. Morton in the city, that Frank awaited that 
event with a good deal of anxiety. 

When the train neared the terminus Frank took 
a good wash, put on a clean collar, and tidied up 
generally. Leaving the train he bought a satis- 
factory meal at a restaurant, and was ready for 
business. 

Frank soon located the book concern in which 
Mr. Morton had invested his money. It occupied 
four gaudy offices, one of which was occupied ex- 
clusively by Mr. Morton. Frank had to wait his 
turn for an interview. While seated in the ante- 


92 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


room, he learned something of the business going 
on from the conversation of some callers there. 

It appeared that the concern sold book outfits 
to canvassers on a conditional salary guarantee. 
From what Frank gleaned very few ever made 
good, so the chief revenue of the company came 
from the original outfit sale. 

Finally Frank was called into Mr. Morton’s of- 
fice. The latter looked him over with an urbane 
smile. 

“ Came in response to our advertisement for 
agents, I suppose? ” he inquired. 

“ Not at all,” replied Frank. “ It is solely on 
personal business. I came to see you, sir — about 
your old business at Riverton.” 

Mr. Morton shrugged his shoulders impatiently, 
as though the reminder was unpleasant. 

“ Bills?” he growled out. “Thought I’d set- 
tled everything — sick of the whole business, and 
threw it up in the air for good. Go on.” 

“ Why,” said Frank, “ I sort of represent the 
people who bought the salvage from the fire in- 
surance folks.” 

“ I have nothing to do with that.” 

“ Among the debris there was a zinc box with 
some of your papers in it.” 


A VISIT TO THE CITY 


93 


“ Yes, I remember,” nodded Mr. Morton. 
“ Nearly all burned up, weren’t they? ” 

“ No, sir. In looking them over I found some 
of your old customers’ accounts, and that like. I 
thought they might be valuable to you, so I came 
down from Greenville where I live to bring them 
to you.” 

“You did?” exclaimed Mr. Morton with a 
stare, partly suspicious, partly surprised. “ That’s 
queer.” 

Frank said no more. He opened the suit case 
and removed its two neatly put up packages. One 
contained the private papers of Mr. Morton. The 
other contained the mailing lists and mail order 
system layout. 

Frank placed the two parcels on the desk be- 
fore his host. The latter chanced to open the 
larger package first. He carelessly ran over the 
lists and the accompanying literature. 

“ H’m,” he said rather irritably, “ I’ve little use 
for that monument of my fool-killer experiment! ” 

Frank was relieved — in fact, pleased, to ob- 
serve Mr. Morton contemptuously sweep aside the 
litter before him and inspect the second package. 

This interested him. He sorted out quite a lot 
of bills and receipts. 


94 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Guess I’m a careless business man,” he spoke at 
last. “ That fire so discouraged me I just got 
out, bag and baggage. There’s some good, col- 
lectible bills here. Now then, young man,” he 
continued, facing squarely about on Frank, “ don’t 
tell me you came way down here from Greenville 
with that stuff just out of courtesy and kindness.” 

“ I will tell you the whole story, if you have the 
time to listen to it,” replied Frank. 

“ Certainly — fire away.” 

Frank recited his experience with the salvage 
from start to finish. He wound up with the 
words: “You can see, sir, very plainly that I 
have hopes of getting those lists. I have a little 
money, and I will be glad to buy them.” 

Mr. Morton studied Frank in a pleased, inter- 
ested way. 

“ Young man,” he said, “ you have acted very 
honorably in coming to me the way you have. As 
to that mail order literature, cart it away. I don’t 
want it. I might sell the lists, if I had the time 
— I haven’t — so they are yours. And, look 
here, these bills — I’ll give you half of what you 
collect on them.” 

“You will?” exclaimed Frank, doubly de- 
lighted. “ I will gladly meet the trial for ten per 
cent.” 


A VISIT TO THE CITY 


95 


“ No,” insisted Mr. Morton, “ there’s some ex- 
pense and trouble, you not living in Riverton, 
You’ll have to hire a rig to visit some of my former 
debtors. I’ve stated the proposition. Here, I’ll 
write you out an authority to act as my agent.” 

Frank arose to leave the office half-an-hour later 
a satisfied and grateful boy. Mr. Morton had 
quizzed him considerably as to his future plans. 
He was down on the mail order business, for he 
had made a failure of it himself, but he said a 
good many enlightening things that at least warned 
Frank of the pitfalls in his business course. 

“ Please, one more word, Mr. Morton,” said 
Frank, taking up his repacked suit case — “ about 
those apple corers of yours? ” 

“ Whew ! ” cried his host with a wry grimace, 
“ have I got to think of that grand flare-up 
again? ” 

“ There’s a lot of them, you know, among the 
salvage?” suggested Frank. 

“ Yes, and there would have been a lot more if 
the fire hadn’t stopped returns,” declared Mr. Mor- 
ton. “ That was a bad investment.” 

“ Did you patent the apple corer Mr. Morton? ” 
asked Frank. 

“No — yes — my attorney filed the caveat, I 
believe. I don’t think we ever completed the pat- 


96 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


ent transaction, and of course I shan’t throw away 
any more good money on it.” 

“ I was thinking,” said Frank, “ that with a 
little modification — improvement, you know ? 
maybe it might be made to work satisfactorily.” 

Mr. Morton made such an excited jump straight 
towards his young visitor that Frank was rather 
startled. 

“ Young man,” he said, very solemnly, “ if you 
want me to lose all the really profound admiration 
I feel towards you for the business-like way in 
which you have managed things, don’t, for mercy’s 
sake, tell me that you have been bitten, to®, with 
the fatal, crazy, irrational dream that you want to 
invent something! ” 

“ Why,” said Frank, with a smile, “ is it as bad 
as that? ” 

“Worse! ” declared Mr. Morton, with a com- 
ical groan. “ Get the patent bee in your bonnet, 
and you’re lost, doomed! ” in a mock-hollow tone 
observed Mr. Morton, shaking Frank by the arm. 
“ Drop it, drop it, or you’re on the rocks.” 

“ Then,” suggested Frank, “ you won’t mind if 
I experiment with the corer? ” 

“ Mind? I wish you’d sink it. I wish I could 
forget the money I lost in it. It’s yours, though, 
if you want it, only never mention that an old 


A VISIT TO THE CITY 


97 


dreamer of my name ever got dazzled with a toy 
like that. Stick to the straight business line, lad 
— mail order, if you must, but cut off the frills. 
Don’t wreck your ship on gewgaws that are a de- 
lusion and a snare.” 

Frank left the office of the book concern in a 
happy, hopeful mood. Everything had come out 
beyond his fondest anticipations. He was glad he 
had been truthful and honest in the broadest sense 
of the word. 

He went back to the railroad depot and left his 
suit case in the check room. A return train for 
Greenville left at two o’clock, but Frank wanted to 
see the city. Outside of that, he wished to visit 
one or two large mail order houses. 

Frank employed six hours to grand advantage. 
Fie came to the depot feeling that the money he 
had spent was a good investment. 

After a light lunch he sat down on a bench in 
the waiting room. He counted over the little pile 
of bank notes in his pocketbook with a pleased 
smile. 

“ Just think,” he reflected, “ I expected to pay 
Mr. Morton twenty, maybe thirty dollars for those 
lists and the routing outfit, and here I am going 
back home with practically all my original capital. 
Then, too, the collection of those bills at River- 
7 


98 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


ton: why, it just seems as if fortune has picked me 
out as a special favorite.” 

Frank found the train he was to take would not 
leave for over an hour. It was already made up 
and standing on its track, but still locked up and 
unlighted. Frank went outside and strolled up 
and down the dark platform alongside the train. 

He was full of pleasing, engrossing thoughts, 
and did not notice a large, shrewd-eyed man who 
had followed him from the waiting room. 

Frank was just returning to promenade back 
from the front end of the train, when a sharp 
rustle made him turn half around. 

Instantly a pair of brawny arms were stretched 
out towards him. Both of his hands were im- 
prisoned in the grasp of a sprawling fist. 

“ Hey, keep quiet, or I’ll smash you,” spoke a 
harsh voice. “ Now then, young man, I want that 
money you’ve got in your pocket.” 


CHAPTER XI 


A FRIEND IN NEED 

“ Hands off! ” cried Frank. 

His assailant laughed coarsely. He had Frank 
firmly in his grasp. Pushing him against the steps 
of one of the coaches, still gripping his two wrists 
in one hand he bent him back flat. 

No one was in sight down the long, poorly-illu- 
minated passenger platform. Frank at once 
guessed that the fellow had seen him counting over 
his money in the waiting room and had followed 
him to this spot. 

Frank twisted his lower limbs to one side. His 
assailant was trying with his free hand to reach the 
pocket in which he had seen Frank place his little 
cash capital. Frank’s movement disconcerted the 
would-be thief. He grew angry as his captive 
wriggled onto one side, holding his pocket pinned 
up against the car step. 

“ Hi, you, turn over,” growled the fellow. 

He gave Frank a jerk and then slapped him 
hard against the side of the head. He managed 
99 


tore. 


ioo MAIL ORDER FRANK 

to thrust his hand into his pocket containing the 
money. 

“Ouch!” he yelled, just as his eager fingers 
touched the roll of bank notes. “ Zounds ! who 
did that?” 

“Whack — Frank caught this sound, preceded 
by the air-cutting whistle of some swiftly -directed 
object. 

Whack — whack ! the sound was repeated. 
Frank was free. His assailant had relaxed his 
grasp. His hands were now busy warding off 
mysterious blows in the face. 

Frank darted to one side, his precious savings 
clasped by one hand. He stared in wonder. 

Some one on the roof of the front passenger 
coach was leaning over its rounding edge. He 
was armed with a jointed piece of iron. This he 
plied whip-fashion. Twice its end had struck the 
robber’s face, leavng two great red welts. 

Then a spry, nimble form dropped from the car 
roof to the platform. Frank made out a boy 
about his own age. He was dressed wretchedly, 
and was thin and weak-looking, and his face was 
grimed, but he must have had pluck, for, running 
straight up to the would-be thief, he plied the 
weapon in his grasp like a flail. 

A sharp blow made the ruffian roar with pain. 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


IOI 


Holding a hand to his eye, he retreated down the 
platform, fairly beaten off. 

“ There’s a police officer,” said Frank suddenly, 
noticing a man wearing a uniform come running 
down the platform from the direction of the wait- 
ing room. 

“ Oh, pshaw ! ” ejaculated his rescuer, springing 
nimbly to the platform of the nearest coach. 

“ Hold on, hold on,” cried Frank — “ I want to 
thank you, I — ” 

But his mysterious friend had sprung across the 
car platform in a jiffy. He was swallowed up in 
the darkness beyond. 

“What’s up?” hailed the policeman, running 
up breathlessly. 

“ A man tried to rob me,” explained Frank. 

“ Thought I made out a struggle. Did he get 
anything? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Where did he go? ” 

Frank pointed towards the fan-shaped network 
of tracks melting into the gloom of the switch- 
yards. 

The policeman ran in that direction. Frank 
did not accompany him. He did not believe the 
officer would catch the thief. Besides, Frank was 
more interested in the strange young fellow who 


102 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


had*done him such good service in his time of need. 

Frank stepped up on the coach platform and 
peered up and down the sidings near by. His res- 
cuer was nowhere in sight. Frank was sorry for 
this. The boy had struck him as a hard-luck ob- 
ject. His manifest reluctance against being seen 
by the officer suggested something sinister about 
him. 

Frank stood waiting for the return of the po- 
liceman, a vivid picture of his rescuer in his mind. 
The boy had worn a cap pulled far down over his 
eyes. He seemed young, yet Frank recalled that 
he wore a moustache. 

“ I’d like to give him something for saving me 
the loss of all that money,” said Frank. “ The 
poor fellow looked as if he needed it. Any trace 
of the man, sir? ” 

u No,” answered the policeman, coming back 
from a fruitless search. “ Better keep nearer the 
lights, young fellow. All kinds of rough charac- 
ters hang around here, on the lookout for some- 
body to rob.” 

Frank walked with the policeman to the depot 
rotunda. He stayed outside, however. Once or 
twice he walked the whole breadth of the rotunda, 
peering down the passenger tracks and wishing he 
could find the boy who had beaten off the thief. 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


103 


“ There is some one now,” suddenly exclaimed 
Frank to himself. 

He made a dash down a lonely platform and 
ran across a couple of tracks. 

“ Yes, it’s him,” declared Frank. “ Hey, just a 
minute. Why, what are you running away from 
me for?” 

The person Frank was after had started up 
quickly at the first hail. Frank overtook him, cor- 
nering him where some milk cars blocked the way 
south. 

The strange boy braced back against the side 
of a car, pulled his cap down further over his 
eyes, and said. 

“ Want me?” 

“ Sure, I want you,” cried Frank spiritedly. 
“ First, to shake hands with you and thank you 
for your bravery in my behalf.” 

“ Oh, that wasn’t anything,” observed the 
strange boy. 

“ No, only the saving of all the money I’ve got 
in the world,” retorted Frank. 

He shook the boy’s hand warmly. The latter 
at last slightly returned the hand pressure, but 
kept looking about him furtively and uneasily. 

“ By the way,” said Frank, “ what was that you 
hit that man with? ” 


104 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ A loose-jointed ventilator slide bar I found on 
top of the coach.” 

“ And, if I may ask, what was you ever doing 
perched up there? ” 

“ Well, if you must know, I was waiting for the 
train to start out. In fact,” confessed the speaker 
in a low, constrained tone, “ beating my way, steal- 
ing a ride.” 

“ Where to? ” asked Frank. 

“ Oh — anywhere, anywhere away from the 
city.” 

The boy said this in such a forlorn way that 
Frank felt there was some pathetic cause for the 
despair expressed. 

“ You ran away from the policeman, too,” sug- 
gested Frank. 

“ Yes, he wouldn’t have much use for my kind,” 
observed the boy. 

Frank was silent for a moment, intensely study- 
ing as far as the dim light would allow the figure 
and face of his companion. 

“ What’s your name? ” he asked suddenly. 

“ My name — oh,” sort of stammered the boy, 
“ why, it’s Markham.” 

“ Well, Markham,” said Frank very kindly, 
placing a gentle hand on the lad’s arm, “ you and 
I should be good friends. Don’t edge away from 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


105 


me. You say you were trying to get out of the 
city. Had you no idea of where you were bound 
for? ” 

“ Nowhere, but the country. Some place where 
I’d be safe — I mean where they couldn’t find — 
that is, oh, just to get to some quiet little country 
town where I could get work.” 

“ I’ve got the town and I’ll guarantee the work,” 
cried Frank heartily, slapping Markham on the 
shoulder. “ See here, no secrets between friends 
now. You’ve got no money, or you wouldn’t be 
riding on car tops.” 

“ That’s true enough,” admitted the boy, forcing 
a laugh. 

“ And maybe you’re hungry.” 

There was no reply to this, but Markham’s 
eager eyes strayed in the direction of the lighted 
waiting room and its gleaming coffee tank and 
polished lunch counter. 

“ Come on,” urged Frank, keeping up a cheery, 
good-fellow air. “ I’m ready for a bite, too.” 

Markham held back as Frank tried to pull him 
along with him. 

“ See here — ” 

“ Newton — Frank Newton, that’s me.” 

“ Well, I can’t go with you. In the first place, 
I’m a sight for respectable people. In the next 


io6 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


place,” went on Markham, “ there’s some people I 
don’t want to risk meeting.” 

Frank reflected for a moment or two. 

“ Will you stay here for five minutes till I come 
back?” he asked. 

“ Why, yes, if you want me to,” was the reply. 

“ All right. Be sure, now.” 

Frank was gone less than the five minutes. He 
returned with a little tin pail holding a pint of hot 
coffee, a picnic plate containing two sandwiches, a 
piece of pie and some doughnuts. 

“ There, try that,” he said, placing the things 
on a bumper post. 

“Say,” choked up Markham — but Frank 
strode away, whistling to himself. He did not ap- 
proach Markham until every vestige of the lunch 
had disappeared. 

“ That’s the first square meal I’ve had for two 
days,” said Markham in a grateful, contented tone. 
“ Say, you’re good.” 

“ Am I? ” smiled Frank. “ I’m good for your 
railroad fare to where I live, and a job right on top 
of it for you, if you say so.” 

“Do you honestly mean that?” asked Mark- 
ham, almost solemnly, his voice quite tremulous. 

“ Every word of it,” declared Frank. “ I live 
at Greenville. It’s about a hundred and fifty miles 


A FRIEN D IN NEED 


107 


down state. Say the wcrd, Markham. I can see 
you’re in trouble or distre s of some kind. I’m not 
prying to find out what it s. I only w r ant to show 
what I think of you for saving my money, and 
maybe my life with a courage that has got to be- 
long to a first-class fellow.” 

Markham bowed his head as if in deep thought. 
Frank saw a tear fall to the platform. Finally his 
companion spoke again. 

“ If you will advance my fare,” he said, “ I’ll 
pay you back first money I earn.” 

“ That’s a bargain,” said Frank. “ Come on. 
We’ll buy your ticket right now.” 

“ No,” demurred Markham, holding back in a 
timorous way. “ You get both tickets. I’ll be 
somewhere on the train. I’d rather sort of hang 
around the smoker and the platforms till we get 
beyond the city limits.” 

“ All right,” said Frank. 

He had a vague idea in his. mind that Markham 
was afraid to show himself publicly in the city, for 
some reason or other. Frank even speculated as 
to the possibility of Markham being disguised. 
He looked, acted and talked like a boy about his 
own age. The moustache, however, suggested 
that he was a young man of about twenty. 

Frank made his new acquaintance promise posi- 


108 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

tively he would be on the train. He went back to 
the depot and bought another ticket to Green- 
ville. He was somewhat anxious and impatient 
until the train started up. 

There was a first stop at the limits of the city. 
Just as the train steamed ahead again, some one 
entered at the rear door of the coach. 

“ Hello — good,” exclaimed Frank, as Mark- 
ham quietly sat down in the seat beside him. 
“Why—” 

Frank paused there, staring at his fellow-pas- 
senger. Markham had washed the grime from 
his face. He no longer wore the cap pulled down 
over his eyes. Looking bright as a dollar, he 
smiled, pleasantly. 

“ Pretty grimy, wasn’t I? ” he laughed. 

“ Why, yes,” stammed the puzzled Frank, “ but 
say — what has become of your moustache? ” 


CHAPTER XII 


A BOY WITH A MYSTERY 

The boy who called himself Markham flushed 
scarlet at Frank’s sudden words. His hand went 
with a quick, nervous movement to his upper lip. 
He looked dreadfully embarassed. 

“ Never mind,” said Frank abruptly, trying to 
make it easy for the young fellow.” You look 
better without it.” 

Markham had gained time now to cover his con- 
fusion. He swallowed a lump in his throat and 
smiled feebly. 

“ You see,” he stammered somewhat, “ that 
wasn’t a real moustache — that one I’ve dropped.” 

“ Oh, wasn’t it?” said Frank. 

“ No. How I happened to have it was this,” 
explained Markham, rather lamely, but with ap- 
parent truth. “See?” and he produced from a 
pocket two false moustaches and as many small 
goatees. “ Fact is, I wanted to earn some money. 
I saw a peddler selling those things on a street 
They went like hot cakes. I asked him 
109 


corner. 


no 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


where he bought them. He told me, said he had 
taken them up only temporarily to make a little 
pocket money. He was nearly sold out, and of- 
fered me about a dozen of them for a quarter. I 
sold nearly all of them, and then went to the ad- 
dress he gave me to stock up again. They 
wouldn’t sell under a gross — three dollars and 
sixty cents, I think the price was. I didn’t have 
that much, so my scheme fell down.” 

Markham now took a printed circular from his 
pocket, as if to verify his statement. Frank 
glanced over it with increasing interest. It adver- 
tised a city firm supplying street peddlers with all 
kinds of goods. 

“ Yes,” said Frank, “ I noticed a man selling 
these same articles on a street corner. It’s a pretty 
catchy novelty with boys and young men.” 

“ It is, for a fact,” declared Markham. “ Look 
here: did you ever see ‘ Teddy’s Teeth? ’ That’s 
an old novelty — look.” 

Markham produced and put in his mouth a row 
of false teeth, welted the reverse side of a mous* 
tache, placed it on his upper lip, a minute black dab 
of hair on his chin, and turned for inspection to 
Frank. 

The latter laughed heartily. The transforma- 


A BOY WITH A MYSTERY 


hi 


tion from Markham’s natural face was immense. 

“ You have no idea how those things catch peo- 
ple the first time they see them,” said Markham. 
“ I’ve noticed that fellows from the country buy 
best. Say, if I had a gross of them, I bet I could 
sell them in two days, down your way.” 

“ I think you could, too, Markham,” replied 
Frank, “ and you have set me thinking on an en- 
tirely new business proposition. Can I keep this 
circular? ” 

“ Surely, if it’s any use to you.” 

“ It may be,” said Frank, “ in fact, I think I 
shall order a gross as soon as I get home, just to 
experiment on.” 

“Going peddling?” insinuated Markham. 

“ Why, I’ll tell you,” answered Frank. “ Set- 
tle down comfortably, and we’ll chat a little. It 
will do me good to talk out what’s continually on 
my mind. More than that, I shouldn’t wonder if 
you, with all your experience, could give me some 
very valuable points. The long and short of it is, 
I am going into the mail order business.” 

“ Oh ! ” said his companion wistfully, “ isn’t that 
grand.” 1 ■ ; 1 

Frank told his new friend all about himself, his 
business and his hopes and plans. The other list- 


112 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


ened with great attention. When Frank had fin- 
ished talking, Markham showed by his expression 
of face that he considered him a pretty smart busi- 
ness boy. 

“ If you can afford to hang around with me till 
I get my bearings,” added Frank, “ I’ll guarantee 
you a comfortable home anyway, and good money 
if you know how to earn it.” 

Markham’s eyes grew big with excitement. 
Then his face fell, as he said: 

“ I’d like nothing better in the world, but busi- 
ness men don’t hire strangers without a recommen- 
dation. I can give none. I’ll be square with you. 
My name isn’t Markham at all. I can’t tell you 
my real one until maybe a long, long time. I wore 
that moustache partly as a disguise.” 

“ Well, all that is your business, Markham,” 
said Frank. 

“ I know that, but it must look suspicious to 
you. If I told you that I am leaving the city to 
get away from some one who is hunting me, would 
you feel like trusting me much? ” 

Frank took his companion’s hand in his own and 
looked him straight in the eyes. 

“ Markham,” he said, “ I am willing to put en- 
tire confidence in you. I owe you that much, 
surely. Your secrets are not my business, I would 


A BOY WITH A MYSTERY 


113 

like to ask one question only: You haven’t run 
away from home, have you?” 

“ I have no home,” answered Markham in a 
subdued tone. 

“An orphan?” insinuated Frank, gently. 

“ No, my father is living. He is in the Philip- 
pines. He will be out of service next January. 
All I am waiting for is for him to get back to this 
country to right my wrongs.” 

“ Don’t worry about it, Markham,” said Frank, 
observing deep sadness and distress shadow the 
bright face of his companion. “ You come home 
with me. I’ve got so good a mother she will wel- 
come you gladly.” 

“ But I want to work,” said Markham. 

“ Haven’t I got work waiting ready for you, 
and lots of it, too? ” demanded Frank. 

“ That’s so, is it? ” said Markham, brightening 
up. “ My! to be away — away from the city in 
a quiet, beautiful town. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! 
You are the first real friend I’ve found in six 
months, and — I can’t help it.” 

“ That’s right — get rid of all your old trou- 
bles,” said Frank, and he did not think the less of 
his new friend because he had a good, solid cry. 
“ There’s nothing but sunshine ahead for you, if I 
can help you any.” 

8 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


114 

Frank warmed to the boy as they continued 
their conversation. A dark spell seemed to lift 
from Markham’s spirit, each mile accomplished 
away from the great city that appeared to hold 
some secret, haunting dread for him. 

“ Greenville,” announced Frank heartily at 
length — “ and home.” 

The hour was late, the streets deserted, but, as 
they strolled away from the little railroad depot, 
Markham walked like a person in some rapt 
dream. He drew in great luxurious breaths of 
the flower-perfumed air. He viewed pretty moon- 
lit lawns and gardens as if he were looking at some 
fascinating picture. 

“ Like it, do you? ” smiled Frank. 

“ I love the country. I always did,” replied 
Markham. “ This is just grand to me. Look 
here, now,” he continued, “ you had better let me 
stow myself in some friendly haystack or under 
some hedge till morning. Don’t disturb your 
mother to-night about me.” 

“ Disturb her? ” said Frank. “ No danger of 
her going to bed till I show up, if it’s till morning. 
There we are — there’s the light in the window 
for us, Markham.” 

Frank led his friend upstairs over the store. 
Markham lagged behind until the greetings be- 


A BOY WITH A MYSTERY 


115 

tween mother and son were over. He stepped a 
little timidly forward, as he heard Frank say: 

“ Mother, I have brought a friend home with 
me. This is my mother, Markham.” 

Mrs. Ismond received the homeless boy with a 
sweet, welcoming smile that won his heart entirely. 
She told Frank to take him into the sitting room 
while she herself hustled about the kitchen. Frank 
left Markham long enough to join his mother and 
tell her what he owed to his new companion. 

“ It’s late,” said Mrs. Ismond a few minutes 
later, “ but you must eat a good meal after your 
long, busy day, and I positively will wake up no- 
body in this house until nine o’clock in the morn- 
ing.” 

There were only two beds in the house. Frank 
shared his with Markham. The latter wore a 
happy smile on his face as he stretched himself out 
luxuriously. 

“ That supper ! ” he said, in a rapturous sort of a 
way. “This nice comfortable bed! I’ve got to 
shut my eyes for fear it will all turn out a dream.” 

Frank was glad to lie thinking for a spell undis- 
turbed. His companion fell into a profound, ex- 
hausted slumber. Mrs. Ismond retired, and the 
house was all quiet at last. 

Like a panorama all the varied events of the 


n6 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


preceeding twenty-four hours passed vividly 
through Frank’s mind. He felt greatly satisfied 
with the outcome of his visit to the city. 

Then Frank began to scan the future, his plans, 
his ambitions. He felt truly rich with his little 
money capital, the present work in hand, the mail 
order lists, the apple corer, and other things. 

“ How sick that man is of his apple corer,” 
mused Frank. “ There are over five thousand of 
the crude, unsatisfactory things in that big box 
down stairs. He had a good idea all right, but 
didn’t know how to apply it. He gave it — to — 
me — be — ” 

There Frank drifted into a doze. It was 
strange, but he half-dreamed, half-thought out 
some wonderful transformation of the hardware 
man’s invention, and, all of a sudden, in a light- 
ning flash, a great, surging idea swept through his 
brain with tremendous force. 

It lifted him out of his sleep half-dazed, he gave 
a jump from the bed to the floor. There he wav- 
ered, rubbing his eyes, and then irresistibly shout- 
ing out: 

“ Eureka — I’ve found it ! ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


A GOOD START 

Frank did not go to sleep again, he couldn’t. 
As he lay there, it seemed to him as though every 
nerve in his body was wide awake and on a terrific 
tension. 

Frank had heard of some of the great inventions 
of the world discovered in a dream. Had he, too, 
in a dream, or a half-waking doze, had the same 
experience. 

“ It came like a flash,” he reflected. “ It’s plain 
as day now. The apple corer improved, re- 
modeled, in perfect working order and a success. 
Oh, I simply can’t lie here.” 

Frank wriggled and tossed restlessly. Then, 
when he was certain that Markham was asleep 
again, he slipped quietly out of bed, put on part 
of his clothes and glided noiselessly downstairs. 

Frank softly closed the store door communicat- 
ing with the hallway. He lit a lamp and went over 
to a counter containing the great heap of apple 

117 


corers. 


n8 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


He selected one, got a sheet of tin and a pair of 
stovepipe shears, and became engrossed in cutting 
out and forming cones, funnels and all kinds of 
odd-shaped contrivances. 

For fully two hours Frank was working at his 
task. He seemed to be supplying the crude apple 
corer with an inner sheath, to which he had sup- 
plied a small three-bladed device. He turned it 
about, altered it, worked over it, and a broad smile 
of satisfaction stole across his face as he pro- 
gressed. 

“ Frank, this is not sleeping.” 

Frank looked up from his task, quite startled, to 
find his mother standing a few feet away, watch- 
ing him. 

“ I know it isn’t, mother,” he responded gaily. 
“ It’s work, good work, too, so it couldn’t wait.” 

“ But, Frank—” 

“ Listen, mother,” he said, “ I have dreamed out 
an invention. Really I have. If my improved ap- 
ple corer works as I think it will, this is a lucky 
spell of wakefulness. I don’t want to say much 
about it till I am sure of it, but I believe I have 
invented something practical and of value.” 

Frank treasured his little model in his pocket, 
and consented to go back to bed now. He was 
up bright and early. First thing he was down in 






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WmmiM. 


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A BROAD SMILE OF SATISFACTION STOLE ACROSS HIS FACE 

AS HE PROGRESSED. Page 1 18 . 















































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A GOOD START 


119 

his work shop. At breakfast he was more quiet 
than usual. Frank was doing a great deal of 
thinking. 

“ I have certainly got the patent right bee in my 
bonnet,” he reflected. “ It’s a fascinating little 
insect. Ah, Markham, we were going to let you 
sleep till you were rested up completely,” added 
Frank, as their guest put in an appearance. 

Markham was pleasant, polite and contented. 
He put some things in order for Mrs. Ismond, of- 
fered to help her with the dishes, and went down- 
stairs finally to join Frank. 

“ Now then,” he said briskly, “ I’m fed up and 
rested up — what is there to do ? ” 

Frank explained about the needle packages. 
He told Markham as well as he could what towns 
in the vicinity had been covered. 

“ There’s a row of little settlements to the east,” 
he explained. “ You can use my bicycle if you like 
and give them a call.” 

“ This is real life,” jubilated Markham, as he 
set off on the wheel with a hundred packages of 
the needles done up in a cardboard box. 

Frank received visits from several of his boy 
employes that morning. Then he set about dis- 
posing of some odds and ends of the salvage 
stock about town. 


120 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


From two till five o’clock he was busy working 
on his “ patent.” From then until six o’clock he 
wrote several letters, went out and mailed them, 
and kept thinking and planning on the mail order 
business. 

Markham, dusty and tired, wheeled up to the 
store about seven o’clock. He had an immense 
bouquet of wild flowers, which delighted Mrs. 
Ismond, to whom he gracefully presented it. 

“ What a day it has been for me,” he exclaimed, 
after a good wash up. “ Why, I seem to be free, 
really free for the first time in my life — the pretty 
roads, the lovely flowers, the sweet singing 
birds — ” 

“ And the needles? ” suggested practical Frank. 

“ Oh, I sold them before noon,” said Mark- 
ham, indifferently. 

“ All of them?” 

“ Fifteen packages to one little country store. 
Knocked a cent off my profit, but time counts, you 
know.” 

“ I sent an order to the city for a gross of those 
false moustaches,” announced Frank. 

“You did?” exclaimed Markham. “That’s 
famous ! When will they be here ? ” 

“ Day after to-morrow, I think. Then I’m go- 
ing down to Riverton to collect some bills. I cab 


A GOOD START 


1 21 


culate it will take about three days to clean up the 
lot. Mother, you must run the business here wh' 
I’m gone. We will have to stay at Rivert 
nights.” 

“Shall I keep on with the needles?” asked 
Markham. 

“ Yes, but not here. We will make Riverton 
headquarters for this trip. You can come with me, 
and try the false moustaches on the community.” 

“ Some needles, too,” said Markham. “ I’ll 
guarantee to sell a gross of the moustaches in two 
days.” 

Markham did quite as well the second day as he 
had the first. It pleased Frank to note how he 
seemed emerging from a worried-looking, dis- 
tressed refugee into a bright, laughing, happy boy. 
Mrs. Ismond had taken a great liking to him, and 
he seemed never tired of helping Frank with his 
chores clear up to bed time. 

The moustaches arrived the next afternoon. 
They had a merry evening, Markham applying 
moustache, goatee and false teeth to his face, and 
giving character imitations thus disguised, which 
he had seen at some show. 

Frank hired a light wagon and horse for three 
days, and the next morning he and Markham drove 
over to Riverton. They arranged for a cheap 


122 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


lodging, and separated. Frank had routed the 
bills he had to collect systematically. The first 
batch took in a twenty miles circuit among far- 
mers. 

When evening came he had presented bills 
amounting to about two hundred dollars. As the 
horse walked slowly back the road to Riverton, 
Frank figured out the day’s results. 

“ Pretty good,” he said, running over the paper 
slips in a package. “ I have collected forty-four 
dollars and eighty cents — got twenty dollars in 
sixty days’ notes, four promises to pay, four peo- 
ple call again, three parties moved away, and six 
bills no good.” 

Frank drove leisurely down the principal street 
of Riverton, bound for the livery stable where he 
had arranged to put up the horse during their so- 
journ in town. 

He halted with some curiosity and amusement 
at a corner where a crowd was gathered. 
Mounted on a dry goods box, Markham was ad- 
dressing a large and jolly audience. 

He was giving character sketches in a really en- 
tertaining way. After every sally of laughter he 
would ply his wares. Everybody seemed buying. 

“ He’s a bright fellow and a first-class peddler,” 
Frank reflected, as he continued on his way, unob- 


A GOOD START 


123 


served by the friend he had started in business. 

“ All sold out and the public hungry for more,” 
announced Markham, as he joined Frank on agree- 
ment at a restaurant. “ Those false teeth also. 
I’ll bet fifty people asked for them. Say, it would 
pay to wire a quick duplicate order on the mous- 
taches and a gross of the teeth. I can certainly sell 
the outfit before we leave this town.” 

“ I’ll see if I can’t arrange it,” said Frank, and 
after supper he did so. Frank got track of a pur- 
chasing agent, who for a small commission went 
daily from Riverton to the city, bringing back with 
him what light stuff he could carry in his two 
valises — all the baggage the railroad company 
would allow through free. 

Just at dusk Saturday evening the two friends 
started cheerily homewards. Frank had made ex- 
actly thirty-eight dollars for his three days’ work. 
Markham’s profits amounted to a little over seven- 
teen dollars. 

“ I want you to be my banker, Frank,” he said. 
“ Haven’t I done quite well? Next week I’ll cut 
a still wider swath.” 

“ Not peddling, Markham,” said Frank. 

“Why not? ” inquired Markham, in some sur- 
prise. 

“ Well, I’ll tell you. To-night about closes up 


124 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


what business I have in hand. You know all my 
hopes and plans tend towards starting a mail order 
business. We would soon exhaust this district, 
selling on a small scale. I want to reach a wider 
one. I have found out what takes with the pub- 
lic. Next week I am going to gather together 
what we have, and move to another town.” 

Markham’s face fell. He looked a trifle un- 
easy. 

“ Nearer the city? ” he asked, in quite an anx- 
ious tone. 

“ No, nearly a hundred and fifty miles north of 
here. The fact is, Markham, I am going to move 
to Pleasantville. I have some rare, royal friends 
there. Two of them, Darry and Bob Haven, are 
in the printing business. They own and publish a 
weekly newspaper. They can help me immensely. 
Then there is a mightier reason, too, for locating 
at Pleasantville.” 

“What’s that, Frank?” asked the interested 
Markham. 

“ A man named Dawes runs a novelty factory 
there — makes all kinds of little hardware special- 
ties. It is just the place to manufacture my apple 
corer, if it is a success. If it is not, l ean adver- 
tise the list he already manufactures, and get up 
something else.” 


A GOOD START 


125 


“ There’s a good deal of money in those little 
devices when a fellow gets up the right thing, I 
suppose?” asked Markham. 

u Sure, anything new and handy goes great,” re- 
sponded Frank. “ I have read of a dozen little 
simple inventions that have made a great fortune 
for the owners.” 

Markham was studiously silent for a few min- 
utes. Then he asked: 

“ Do they make things in wire at that Pleasant- 
ville factory — I mean, do they have the material 
and machinery to make wire things? ” 

“ If not, they can easily get them,” answered 
Frank. “Why do you ask, Markham?” 

“ Well,” said Markham, with a little conscious 
laugh, “ the truth is, I have invented something my- 
self.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


A MEAN ENEMY 

“You have invented something yourself?” re- 
peated Frank, with a good deal of curiosity. 

“ Yes,” nodded Markham. 

“What is it?” 

“ A puzzle.” 

“ What kind of a puzzle? ” pressed Frank. 

“ I’ll show it to you,” said Markham, fishing 
in his pocket. “ There it is. I don’t suppose it’s 
much,” he continued in a deprecating way, 
“ though two or three fellows who saw it said it 
was quite clever.” 

Frank inspected the article his companion now 
handed him with a good deal of interest. It was 
roughly made of wire. There was a ring linked 
into a triangle, and the latter linked onto two other 
rings. The lower one of these had a link con- 
nected with a wire square. Lying loose around 
this link was a larger ring of wire. 

“ What’s the puzzle? ” inquired Frank, looking 
over the little device. 


126 


A MEAN ENEMY 


127 


“ To get that big ring over all the other rings, 
the little square and the triangle.” 

“ Oh, I see,” said Frank, working at the device 
industriously, but finally asking: “Can it be 
done?” 

“ Readily — look here,” and Markham, taking 
the puzzle, deftly slipped the ring over all the ob- 
stacles, and then worked it back again into its 
original place. 

“ I say, that is mighty clever,” declared Frank. 
“ Show me slower, now. The slip over the tri- 
angle is the trick, eh? Good! Markham, that 
thing would sell like hot cakes.” 

“ Think so? ” asked Markham, seriously. 

“ I certainly do. If I was started in the mail 
order business, I wouldn’t hesitate to illustrate and 
advertise it in my catalogue.” 

u Well,” said Markham, “ that pleases me, for I 
can show in a small way my appreciation of all 
your kindness to me. Frank, I give it to you. If 
it’s worth patenting, all right. I know it’s origi- 
nal. It’s yours, freely.” 

“On royalty — yes,” answered Frank. “I’ll 
have some nicely finished models made when we 
get to Pleasantville. We’re getting to be great 
business men, aren’t we, Markham, talking about 


128 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


patents and royalties? How did you come to 
make the thing, anyhow ? ” 

“ Oh, I was for — for a long time in a place 
where there was lots of wire,” explained Markham 
lamely. “ I had too much leisure. It bored me. 
I had to find something to work at to kill time.” 

The old gloom that Frank did not like came into 
the boy’s face as he spoke. Frank drifted off into 
generalizations on his mail order dreams to lead his 
mind into more pleasant channels. 

There was a great confab at the supper table that 
evening. Frank told his mother all his plans in 
detail. She had too much confidence in his good 
judgment to oppose his wishes. 

“ I will be glad to get anywhere away from a 
place where I have seen so much sorrow,” she said. 
“ Besides that, the Haven boys and Bart Stirling 
and their friends are certainly good friends of 
yours. Has my son ever told you of the lives he 
saved at the great fire at the Pleasantville hotel? ” 
Mrs. Ismond asked of Markham. 

“ Oh, pshaw, mother,” said Frank — “don’t go 
to lionizing me, now.” 

His mother was fondly persistent, however, and 
Markham, with gleaming eyes, was soon reading 
a treasured newspaper clipping telling of Frank’s 


A MEAN ENEMY 


129 


heroic exploit, as already related in detail in “ Two 
Boy Publishers.” 

“ That’s fine,” he exclaimed with enthusiasm, 
“ and I’m proud to know your son, Mrs. Ismond.” 

The next day Frank wrote a report to Mr. Mor- 
ton about the collections. He returned the unpaid 
bills with notations as to the condition of each 
claim, explaining that he was going to move to a 
distant town, and naming Mr. Buckner as a reli- 
able man to follow up the collections. 

Frank saw their lawyer, Mr. Beach. The at- 
torney stated that their suit against Dorsett would 
not be tried for over a year. He took Mrs. Is- 
mond’s new address, and promised to look out for 
her interests. 

Then Frank arranged to sell off some of their 
furniture. It took two days to pack up the rest. 
Tuesday morning early all arrangements had been 
completed for their removal. They had engaged 
a freight car to carry their belongings to Pleas- 
antville. 

Frank closed up his business with Nelson Cady 
and the other boys. The old store building was 
vacated. Markham was to go with them to Pleas- 
antville. 

Mrs. Ismond was to spend the day until train 


130 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


time with an old neighbor. Frank and Markham 
were also invited there to dinner. 

They had just finished the meal. Frank was 
looking over a time-table and telling of a letter he 
had received from Darry Haven that morning, 
when there came a thundering knock at the front 
door. 

“ Frank,” said Mrs. Ismond, in quite a startled 
tone, as her hostess opened the front door, “ it is 
that man, Mr. Dorsett.” 

“ Is the widow Ismond here? ” demanded Dor- 
sett’s gruff tones. 

“ Mrs. Ismond is here, yes,” replied her friend. 
“ Won’t you come in, sir? ” 

“ No,” sneered Dorsett, “ short and sweet is my 
errand.” 

“ What do you want of my mother, Mr. Dor- 
sett?” demanded Frank, stepping to the open 
doorway. 

“ Oh, you’re here, are you? ” snarled Dorsett. 

“ Frank, do not have any words with him,” 
spoke Mrs. Ismond, hastening to her son’s side. 

Dorsett stood outside. With him was a low- 
browed fellow whom Frank recognized as a 
chronic hanger-on about the village justice’s place. 

“I’ve come — with my deputy and witness, 
ma’am,” announced Dorsett, “ to inform you that 


A MEAN ENEMY 


131 

I have learned that you are about to leave town.” 

“ Yes, that is correct,” answered Mrs. Ismond. 

“ Very well, then here,” and he produced a legal- 
looking slip of paper, “ is a little bill you will have 
to settle first.” 

“ We owe you nothing that I am aware of,” 
said Mrs. Ismond. 

“ Mistake,” snapped Dorsett. “ When I sued 
on my claim to your homestead, I entered judg- 
ment against you for the costs of court. There’s 
the amount — fifty-seven dollars.” 

“ And not satisfied with robbing me of my home 
and my income, in fact everything I had in the 
world, you have the heartlessness to press such a 
claim as this at such a time? ” asked Mrs. Ismond 
bitterly. 

“ Law is law,” prated the mean old usurer. 

“ Why have you never mentioned this before? ” 
demanded Frank, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

“ Because, you insolent young snip,” retorted old 
Dorsett, “ I wanted to pay you off for some of your 
fine airs.” 

“ Well, Mr. Dorsett,” said Mrs. Ismond, “ I 
shall contest this unjust claim.” 

“ All right,” jeered Dorsett, retreating down 
the steps,' and beckoning to his companion, “ then 
within thirty minutes I’ll put an embargo on your 


132 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


leaving the county until I have my money, accord- 
ing to law.” 

Mrs. Ismond sunk to a chair quite pale and dis- 
tressed. 

“ Frank,” she gasped in a frightened way, 
“ what is he going to do? ” 

“ Some mean trick, be sure of that,” said 
Frank. “ Mother, I’ll stay here ten years but I 
will never pay that outrageous claim.” 

“ Be assured I would never let you,” replied his 
mother, firmly. 

“I wish I knew what he was up to?” mur- 
mured Frank in a troubled way. 

“ Leave that for me to find out for you,” said 
Markham briskly, bolting from the house like a 
shot. 


CHAPTER XV 


A PIECE OF CHALK 

Frank Newton had said that Markham was 
a first-class peddler. If he had followed his young 
friend as he darted from the house, he would also 
have noted him quite a proficient amateur detec- 
tive. 

Markham looked down the street after the re- 
treating figures of old Dorsett and his companion. 
He saw they were bound for the business centre of 
the town. He cut down an alley, and heading 
them off allowed them to pass him by and quietly 
followed on their trail. 

When they went up into a building occupied as 
offices for a justice of the peace and lawyers, 
Markham in a few moments trailed after them. 

Loitering about the hall, he could watch them 
conversing with a village magistrate at his desk. 
The latter consulted a copy of the statutes, ex- 
pounded some point under discussion, and finally 
filled out several legal blanks. 

Markham was industriously reading the notices 
133 


134 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


tacked to the justice’s bulletin board outside of his 
office door, as Dorsett came out of the room. 

“ Hold on, Sherry,” he said to his companion. 
“ I’ll settle with you now.” 

“ All right, governor,” bobbed the man. 

“ You are deputized to serve these papers. 
Don’t get them mixed. Got any tacks? ” 

“ I’ll get some all right.” 

“ Very well. When you have disposed of the 
first two documents, serve the last one on Mrs. 
Ismond, see?” 

“Sure, I see, governor — ah, and glad to see 
this five-dollar bill. First one I’ve seen, in fact, 
for an age.” 

“ When you’re all through, report to me.” 

“ I will, governor.” 

They kept together till they reached the street. 
Arrived there, Dorsett went one way, his hireling 
another. 

Markham put after the latter, who was so elated 
over the possession of money that he chuckled and 
swung along the street with a great air of impor- 
tance and enjoyment. 

The man Sherry went straight to the railway de- 
pot. Markham, looking in through one of its 
windows, saw him approach the station agent. To 


A PIECE OF CHALK 


135 


him Sherry read one of the documents and came 
out again. 

The second day of Markham’s residence in 
Greenville, he had done quite an heroic act. It had 
made the railroad men his friends. One of their 
number had celebrated pay day too freely. He 
had stumbled across a track. 

Markham had run at the top of his speed, and 
had even risked life and limb to reach him in time 
to drag him out of the way of a freight train back- 
ing down upon him. 

“ Mr. Young,” said Markham, running into the 
depot by one side door as Sherry left it by an- 
other, “you remember me? ” 

“ Sure, I do. How are you ? ” said the depot 
master heartily. 

“ I’m worried to death to find out what that man 
who was just here is up to,” said Markham, hur- 
riedly. 

“Up to? Down to, you mean,” flared out 
Young. “ He’s served a paper on me as the repre- 
sentative of the railway company, notifying me 
that we are to hold the car containing Mrs. Is- 
mond’s furniture until the matter of a debt she 
owes old Dorsett is settled in court.” 

“ Mrs. Ismond does not rightfully owe him a 


136 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


cent,” asserted Markham. “ It’s a mean, mali- 
cious trick of the old reprobate to persecute my 
friend, Frank Newton. Can they stop the car? ” 

The station agent shrugged his shoulders du- 
biously. 

“ They won’t get any help from me,” he said. 
“ That man asked me where the car was. I told 
him to find out — I wasn’t hunting for it. I’d like 
nothing better than to delay him for two hours. 
By five o’clock the north freights will have left 
the yards. Once out of the county, that furniture 
would be safe.” 

“ Thank you,” said Markham. “ I’ll see what 
I can do.” 

He ran out of the depot forthwith. Sherry had 
crossed the road. Markham saw him coming out 
of one of the taverns lining the street in that im- 
mediate vicinity. 

Sherry had one or two men with him with whom 
he had evidently been treating. They walked 
along with him until they reached another haunt 
of the same class, and went in there. 

Markham got in a doorway near the entrance to 
the place. In a few minutes Sherry came out to 
the street. 

He had his hat stuck back and his head up by 


A PIECE OF CHALK 


137 


this time, and was officious and blatant in his man- 
ner. 

“ I’d like to stay with you, boys,” he announced. 
“ Join you later. Got a big responsibility on my 
shoulders just now.” 

u That so? ” smirked one of the hangers on. 

“ You bet. See that paper? ” and Sherry pro- 
duced a document. 

“ We see it.” 

“ I can tie up the whole railroad system here if 
I want to,” he bragged. 

Markham hurried off in the direction of the 
freight tracks. There was a wide crossing where 
the sidings began. A flagman guarded this. 
Markham ran up to him. This man, as he knew, 
was a brother of the railroader he had saved from 
being run over by the freight train. 

“ Mr. Boyce,” said Markham,” will you do me 
a favor? ” 

“ Sure, will I,” cried the flagman. “ We’re a 
whole family of friends to you, boy.” 

“ All right. Have you got a piece of chalk — 
the kind they use for marking on the cars? ” 

“ Dozens of it. Here’s a handful, my hearty,” 
and the flagman darted into the little shanty and 
out again with a fistful of great chunks of chalk. 


138 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ All right,” said Markham, selecting a piece. 
“ Now then, do you see that man coming down the 
track? ” 

“ Yes,” nodded the flagman. 

“ He will ask you about the out freights, maybe 
about some particular car. It’s the car holding 
Frank Newton’s furniture that he’s after — their 
household goods they’re shipping to Pleasantville.” 

“ Aha,” nodded Boyce. 

“ I will be in sight,” went on Markham, rap- 
idly. “ Point me out to him. Say I can tell him, 
will you?” 

“ But what for — no, that’s all right. I will, 
I will,” pledged the flagman. 

Markham ran down a siding. He was busy 
about a certain car for a few minutes. As, after 
interviewing the flagman, Sherry came that way, he 
discovered Markham seated on top of a locked 
box car idly kicking his heels against its side. 

“ Hey, hello,” hailed Sherry — “ this the out 
freights? ” 

“ How should I know? ” muttered Markham. 

“ Oh, I know you. You’re the fellow who 
trains with young Newton. Of course you’d be 
here, and of course this is the car. Yes,” decided 
Sherry, scanning its side. “ Sure. Here’s the 
destination marked in chalk.” 


A PIECE OF CHALK 


139 


Sherry read the sprawling writing: “7-23, 
Pleasantville,” marked across the locked door of 
the car, and pulled out a document. 

“ That’s the way we do it,” he said in a boast- 
ful chuckle, picking up a coupling pin and using it 
to hammer some tacks through the paper. 
“ There you are. In the name of the law this 
car seized in transit, ipse dixit, e pluribus unum, 
according to the statoots therein pervided. Quite a 
lawyer, hey? Boy, it’s a life sentence to tamper 
with that car till the judge says move her.” 

“ It is? ” said Markham, tranquilly. 

The big braggart swaggered away. Markham 
jumped down, watched him out of sight, jumped 
up and cracked his heels together. Then with his 
handkerchief he rubbed off the destination mark 
that had deluded old Dorsett’s boisterous and self- 
important emissary. 

Then Markham chuckled as he glanced at the 
document tacked to the car door. He now moved 
over to a line of made-up freights on another track. 
He lingered in their vicinity for over an hour. 

When he had seen an engine run on a caboose 
and then switch to the head of the train, Markham, 
with a good deal of complacency in his face, 
started back to join his friends. 

As he neared the house where he had left Mrs. 


140 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Ismond and Frank, he noticed a man leave the 
place. It was Sherry. 

“ All right,” announced Markham, breaking in 
upon his friends a moment later. “ I’ve found 
out what old Dorsett is up to.” 

“ Yes, so have we,” answered Frank, who stood 
by the side of his mother, who was looking down 
dejectedly. “ They have just notified us that the 
car containing our furniture is attached.” 

“ That so? ” said Markham, with a broad smile. 
“ Well, what are you going to do, Frank? ” 

“ We can’t leave Greenville, that’s all,” said 
Frank, with a sigh. “ Mother, I’ll go down to 
the station and get the money back for our tick- 
ets.” 

“ Hold on,” cried Markham, “ you won’t do any 
such thing. How soon does that train leave, 
Frank?” 

“ In half an hour.” 

“Well, get your traps together. You’re going 
to take that train all right.” 

“Why, what are you talking about?” de- 
manded Frank, staring at Markham in wonder. 

“ I mean that fellow who was just here has made 
a mess of it,” said Markham. “ He’s attached a 
car all right, but not your car.” 

“What?” 


A PIECE OF CHALK 


141 

“ No, sir-ree! Your car, my dear Frank, I am 
happy to tell you, is by this time twenty miles over 
the county line whirling on its way to Pleasant- 
ville. Hip, hip, hurrah ! ” 

“ See here, Markham,” said Frank, seriously, 
seizing his friend’s arm in an endeavor to cure his 
jubilant antics. u What have you been up to.” 

“ Me? Nothing,” declared Markham, assum- 
ing the vacant bumpkin look he expressed so well 
when he gave a character delineation. “ It’s old 
Dorsett’s emissary who was up to something — up 
to the wrong car, see? He has tacked that at- 
tachment notice onto a poor innocent old car filled 
with ballasting cinders. Never mind now. I’ll 
tell you later. Don’t miss the train, Frank.” 

There were hurried good-byes to their kind- 
hearted neighbor. Frank and Markham, each 
carrying two satchels, piloted Mrs. Ismond to the 
railroad station. 

Just as the train came in from the south a man 
drove past the depot platform. He drew up his 
horse with a jerk. It was Dorsett. 

He stared in amazement at the departing trio. 
Then suddenly, as if suspecting some trick, he got 
out of his gig and hurried across to the train. 

Frank had got his mother to a comfortable seat. 
The coach window was open. 


142 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ You leave at your peril, widow Ismond,” 
shouted Dorsett. “ That stuff of yours is attached. 
.We’ve stopped the freight car, and — ” 

“ All aboard! ” sang out the conductor. 

“ Hold on, stop — zounds ! ” yelled Dorsett at 
the top of his voice. 

He was lifted from his feet suddenly. Some 
one rushing down the platform at cyclone speed 
had collided with him. 

It was Nelson Cady. He was hatless, his hair 
flying in the wind, his whole appearance that of 
fearful excitement. 

“ Say, conductor,” he panted out breathlessly. 
“ Three people just got on the train — where are 
they? Must see Frank Newton! ” 

“ Hi, there, Nelson,” hailed Frank, waving his 
hand through the open coach window. 

“ Oh, jolly! ” shouted Nelson, keeping on a run 
with the moving train. “ See Frank! ” 

Nelson tugged at his pocket. He pulled out a 
white, fluttering sheet of paper. 

“ Frank, Frank,” his excited tones rang out after 
the vanishing train — “ I’ve got my letter at last! ” 


CHAPTER XVI 


“ frank’s mail order house n 

“ Gentlemen, you embarrass me.” 

“ Hear! hear!” 

“ I may say, I am overwhelmed — overpow- 
ered — ” 

“ Good! Get over it, and give us a speech.” 

“ No, a toast first. ‘ Frank’s Mail Order 
House.’ Stet, fill up the sparking glasses once 
more.” 

“Hip, hurrah! Success to Frank Newton and 
his new business venture.” 

A merry friendly party was gathered about a 
long folding table in the middle of a spacious room. 
There were seven of them, and they were having a 
jolly good time. An acceptable lunch graced the 
banqueting board. Attired in a neat waiter’s 
apron and entering heart and soul into the enjoy- 
ment of the occasion, Stet, general utility boy for 
Haven Bros., helped the guests from a great pail 
of ice cold lemonade, and made himself generally 
useful about the table. 


143 


144 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


This was Pleasantville, where Frank Newton, 
his mother, and Markham had arrived just one 
week previous. The room in which Frank’s 
friends were giving him a welcome was located on 
the lower floor of the old building that Haven 
Bros, had transformed into a print shop in their 
early amateur publishing career. 

Long since the firm of Haven Bros, had risen 
to the dignity of occupying quarters right next to 
the Eagle, on the main street of the village. 

They had a lease of the old quarters, however. 
When Frank came again upon the scene a joint 
committee of his loyal friends had met in executive 
session to see what they could do to put him on his 
feet. 

This old structure stood back from the street, 
but had a pleasing lawn and flower beds on either 
side of the broad walk approaching it. The build- 
ing was just off the principal Pleasantville thor- 
oughfare. 

There were two large rooms on the lower floor 
and a spacious store room above. The Havens 
and Bart Stirling had fitted up one of the lower 
rooms as an office. Bob Haven had donated a 
desk and several chairs. His brother Parry had 
put in a table and a file cabinet. Bart had fur- 
nished a neat rug. That evening they had gone to 


“ FRANK’S MAIL ORDER HOUSE ” 145 

the cottage which Mrs. Ismond had rented, and 
had led Frank over to this little surprise party, 
comprising themselves, Jim Dunlap, an old prin- 
ter, and Baker Mills, also an employe of the 
Herald. 

Markham was somewhat reticent at first, but 
he soon warmed up in response to the free and 
hearty spirits surrounding him. i 

He was immensely interested as the crowd be- 
gan to chat on experiences. The story of how 
Bart Stirling had risen from a “ sub ” in a little ex- 
press office to assistant manager of a large office, 
as already related in “ The Young Express 
Agent,” was particularly fine to his way of think- 
ing. 

The career of the Havens was quite as remark- 
able. They now ran the leading weekly news- 
paper in Pleasantville, and had a job printing 
business that employed two men besides themselves. 

Stet, the boy they had rescued from hard usage 
and extortion at the hands of their rival, Jasper 
Mackey, publisher of the Pleasantville Eagle ) had 
become a valued fixture with them. 

Mrs. Haven, who furnished fashion plates for 
some city magazines, got up an original pen and 
ink sketch for the Herald each week. The Haven 
boys were generally conceded to get out the most 
10 


146 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


readable weekly newspaper in that section of the 
state. 

“ I declare,” said Frank, with a grateful and a 
gratified look about the place,” you fellows have 
just about equipped me for business.” 

“ Oh, not yet,” said Bob Haven. “ My sister 
is away for a month, and I have arranged to loan 
you her typewriter till you can afford to get one of 
your own.” 

“ Say,” broke in Markham, eagerly, “ I’m just 
at home on that machine.” 

“ Good for you,” approved Bob. “ Then 
there’s a painter, here owes us a bill for printing 
he never could pay in cash. He’s painting a neat 
gold-lettered sign for the front of your place. 
‘ Frank’s Mail Order House.’ ” 

“Yes,” put in Darry, “and I’ve dug out of 
storage an upright showcase we took for a debt. 
It’s got twelve glass shelves. Set it up at the edge 
of the walk with samples of the various articles you 
are going to sell, and I’ll warrant many farmer 
groups coming to town will drop in to look around 
and invest.” 

“ This is simply immense,” said Frank. “ I’m 
just bursting with vanity, or self-importance, or 
ambition, or something of that sort.” 

He briefly outlined his plans to his friends. 


“ FRANK’S MAIL ORDER HOUSE ” 147 

* 

Frank had only that day held a two hours’ consul- 
tation with John Dawes, who owned the novelty 
works at the edge of the town. 

Dawes made a specialty of manufacturing light 
hardware specialties. His own list embraced over 
two hundred articles, ranging from pocket rules to 
tool chests. He supplied a great many mail order 
people all over the country, and told Frank he 
would be glad to encourage a local institution. 

“ He has given me as low a rate as any customer 
he has on his books, he says,” reported Frank. 

Besides that, being directly on the spot, I save the 
freight charges, you see.” 

“ Good,” said Bart Stirling, “ you’ve struck the 
right location, sure.” 

“ Mr. Dawes is going to make my apple corer 
and a puzzle belonging to Markham,” said Frank. 
“ Then I have made arrangements with a dozen 
large city supply houses. I am going to push that 
harmless comical novelty, the false moustache 
wrinkle. I have also ordered quite a line of cheap 
jewelry, especially initial cuff buttons and friend- 
ship and birthday rings. I can sell at one dollar 
and a half a solid gold birthday ring that retailers 
everywhere mark at three dollars as a minimum 
price. Soon as I get onto all the ropes, I intend 
to reach out for class and fraternity emblem trade, 


1 48 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

selling on sample, and having the goods made by 
a city jewelry manufacturer.” 

“ That’s it,” suddenly broke in Bob Haven to 
Markham, who had carelessly slipped on one of the 
false moustaches in question. “ Heard about your 
talent as an entertainer.” 

“ Yes, give us a round, Markham,” suggested 
Bart. 

Markham got up on a chair, put on Stet’s cap, 
applied goatee and false teeth, and soon had the au- 
dience screaming with hilarity over a very creatable 
representation of a stranded actor giving a mono- 
logue in a country grocery store. 

The party broke up with congratulatory hand 
shakes and all kind of good wishes for the success 
of Frank’s new business enterprise. 

When Bart and the others had gone, Frank and 
Markham looked about their business quarters with 
a proud air of satisfaction and comfort. 

“ I tell you, Frank, those fellows are royal good 
friends of yours,” spoke Markham. 

“ Yes,” said Frank with real emotion, “ they 
have indeed given me the lift they promised me. 
We are of poor business material, indeed, if we 
cannot make this fine beginning lead to a grand 
success. Now then, for a genuine start in the 
morning. If you will act as typewriter till we can 


“ FRANK’S MAIL ORDER HOUSE ” 149 

afford to hire one, I will fold a batch of our first 
circulars.” 

“ Sure, I will,” said Markham readily. 

Bob Haven had brought a thousand circulars 
just off the press. Haven Bros, were to do all the 
printing for the mail order business. Mrs. Haven 
had made several sketches, little inch squares, show- 
ing the false moustache outfit, the wire puzzle, the 
initial jewelry and several other minor specialties. 
Below followed a list of nearly fifty articles, of 
which Frank had a small stock on hand and could 
replenish on short order from city supply houses 
with which he had made a definite arrangement. 

The two boys spread out one of the mailing lists 
Frank had got from the salvage stock. Four 
boxes containing a thousand envelopes were placed 
ready beside the printed circulars. Frank put out 
the lights and locked the office door with the care 
of a miser securing his treasure. 

Markham routed Frank out of bed at five o’clock 
the next morning. They arrived at the office by 
six. Somewhere Markham had learned the type- 
writer perfectly. By four o’clock in the afternoon 
the thousand circulars were all folded, and the 
thousand envelopes all addressed and stamped. 

“ Why, hello, my young friends,” hailed the vil- 
lage postmaster cheerily, as this big mail was de- 


150 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


posited on the stamp table. “If you keep this up, 
you’ll soon have this promoted to a second-class 
post office.” 

Frank wound up the day’s labor by polishing up 
the show case Darry Haven had sent around that 
afternoon. They fitted up its glass shelves with 
samples of the goods they advertised. They got a 
staunch iron standard to support the case, and 
screwed this securely to the walk just at the edge of 
the street. 

“ We’ll work to-morrow morning on our cata- 
logue and the advertising Darry Haven is going to 
place for us,” said Frank, as they left for home that 
evening. 

“ Don’t go in too deep at first, Frank,” suggested 
Markham. 

“ No, I have formulated a definite system,” de- 
clared Frank, “ and I shall try to stick to it. You 
see, I left Greenville with about two hundred dol- 
lars. It has taken about fifty of that to get mother 
settled here, and incidental expenses. Then I have 
your twenty-five dollars you insist on leaving in 
trust with me. I have put fifty dollars aside for 
preliminary printing and some advertising in county 
papers Darry is going to get cheap for me. If 
returns are favorable I shall print a small catalogue,, 
and put just half of our profits back into circular- 


“FRANK’S MAIL ORDER HOUSE” 15 1 

izing and advertising as fast as the money comes 
in.” 

They had barely settled down to work the next 
morning when two schoolboys put in an appearance. 
One wanted to buy a “ Twelve Tools in One ” 
specialty as marked in the show case at twenty-five 
cents. The other produced a dime for a set of the 
false teeth. 

“ Profits fifteen cents and a-half to date,” cried 
Markham gaily, as their first customers departed. 
“ Those little fellows will spread our fame.” 

“ When we get into full running order this local 
trade will be a nuisance to us,” declared Markham 
towards noon. 

In fact, he was kept on the jump attending to 
local customers all the morning. A raw young 
farmer had come in to blushingly buy a friendship 
ring. Several curious townspeople strolled to the 
office door, and out of good nature invested in 
various knicknacks displayed. One boy bought a 
false moustache, and within an hour twenty others 
visited the place clamoring for duplicates. 

“ About to-morrow the answers to our circulars 
will begin to come in,” observed Markham. 
“ That will be the real test of the merit of this 
business.” 


152 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ We will close up for the afternoon,” said 
Frank. “ There’s a lot of little things to do about 
the house and lot mother has rented. I promised 
she should have our help for half a day.” 

After dinner Frank and Markham put on some 
old clothes and set briskly at work. They mended 
the back stoop of the cottage, propped up a fence, 
raked the yard and got the wood shed in order. 

About four o’clock both started in at the cistern 
at the side of the house. Its top had settled in, 
and new boards were required here and there, and a 
new trough from the house eaves. 

Markham was holding a board that Frank was 
nailing, when some one passing by on the street 
whistling caused both to look up. 

“ Don’t let go — the board will spring loose,” 
warned Frank, turning quickly as the pressure from 
the board end was suddenly removed — “ why, 
Markham — ” 

“ Oh, the mischief! ” muttered Markham. 

In wonderment and consternation at a swift 
glance Frank noticed a strangely startled expression 
on his companion’s face. 

Then, his eyes fixed steadfastly upon the street, 
Markham deliberately jumped down into the cis- 
tern out of sight. 


CHAPTER XVII 


A NEST EGG 

“ Quick, grap the pole ! ” shouted Frank. 

As he spoke he thrust a long scantling down into 
the cistern. 

“ Reach for my hand — grab it. You’ll be 
drowned,” continued Frank. 

“ Don’t bother — I’m all safe,” came up Mark- 
ham’s hollow tones. “ There’s only about three 
feet of water here.” 

“How did you ever come to slip in?” asked 
Frank. 

“ Say,” spoke Markham, not replying to the di- 
rect inquiry, “ while I’m in here I may as well see 
if everything is sound and straight with the cistern.” 

Frank saw him flare a match. Some curious 
thoughts were running through Frank’s mind as to 
the strange actions of his companion and helper. 

Before he could analyze them, however, Frank 
saw Bob Haven turn it at the gate. He had a 
package under his arm. Bob stood still for a mo- 
ment to gaze after the person who had just pre- 
ceded him. 


153 


154 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


This latter was a young man, dressed loudly in 
brand new clothes, waving a slender cane with a 
dandified air, his whole bearing suggesting a per- 
son trying to look important and attract attention. 
This was the fellow the sight of whom had appar- 
ently induced Markham to plunge out of sight into 
the cistern. 

Bob Haven stared hard after the receding figure 
of the stranger. 

“ Well, well! ” he was saying as he approached 
Frank. 

“ What’s the matter, Bob? ” inquired Frank. 

“ Did you see that fellow just passed by? ” 

“ Yes, do you know him? ” 

“ I did once — thoroughly. Heard he was in 
town. The nerve, now ! ” 

“ Who is he? ” 

“ He’s bad all through. Name is Dale Wacker. 
When Bart Stirling first took his father’s place 
as express agent here, that fellow’s uncle plotted 
to down him. Worse than that, he stole a lot of 
stuff from the express people. The police were 
after him. Dale, his nephew, was mixed up in it, 
and had to leave town. Heard he was in jail 
somewhere for some new exploits. Came back 
yesterday, I learned. Seemed to have plenty of 
money and tried to cut a figure showing it. Says 


A NEST EGG 


155 


he’s a travelling man now, and earning untold 
wealth. Guess he’s on the way to the depot now, 
to find new victims to swindle where he isn’t so 
well known as he is here. I say, who’s in there, 
anyhow? ” 

As Bob spoke, Markham came climbing up the 
scantling out of the cistern. He was wet to the 
knees and looked troubled of face. 

Frank noticed that he glanced anxiously in the 
direction of the street. 

“ Better go and get on dry clothes,” suggested 
Frank. 

“ Oh, this job won’t take us long to finish, now,” 
answered Markham. 

“ Well, I’ve got some printing to deliver,” said 
Bob. “ Come over to the house after supper, fel- 
lows.” 

“ All right,” acquiesced Frank, but Markham 
said nothing. He acted subdued and worried until 
the cistern was finished. He stuck closely to the 
house after the work was done, and made some 
excuse for not going over to visit Bob and Darry 
after supper. 

Frank was slightly disturbed at these actions — 
secretly he feared that a sight of the fellow Bob 
had called Dale Wacker had caused Markham to 
get out of sight. Frank wished he knew why. 


156 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Frank found his mother and Markham both 
reading when he came home, about nine o’clock. 
He kept his eye on the latter as he remarked to his 
mother that Darry had read to him a little news 
item he had gathered in for the Herald late that 
afternoon. 

It was about a fellow named Dale Wacker, 
Frank narrated. It seemed he was on his way to 
the railroad depot, when an old German peddler 
to whom he had owed money for over two years 
recognized and hailed him. 

The peddler gave Wacker a great scoring and 
demanded his money. A crowd gathered, and 
Wacker started on his way at a fast walk. The 
peddler whipped up his horse to keep pace with 
him, whilst administering a continuous tongue-lash- 
ing. 

The sorry nag did not keep up with the proces- 
sion as Wacker broke into a run. Seizing a bas- 
ket of eggs, the peddler jumped down from the 
wagon. He was a big, fat, unwieldly person, but 
he pursued the fugitive vigorously. 

The crowd hooted and yelled as the German be- 
gan to pelt the eggs after the fugitive. Two eggs 
struck Wacker in the middle of the back. One 
shied off his hat and broke on the back of his head. 
Bespattered and hatless, the fellow reached the de- 


A NEST EGG 


157 


pot just in time to grab the platform rail of the 
last car on a departing train. 

“ Oh, got out of town, did he?” asked Mark- 
ham quite eagerly. 

“Yes, it seems so — faster than he had calcu- 
lated on,” responded Frank. 

“ Won’t be likely to come back again after that 
reception, eh?” said Markham. 

“ I should think not. He’ll be afraid of some- 
thing worse.” 

Markham brightened up. He acted like a dif- 
ferent person at once. He laughed, told some 
funny stories, was his natural self once more, and 
Frank was very glad of it. 

“ Poor fellow,” he mused. “ He’s got some 
harrowing secret on his mind, that’s sure, and he 
doesn’t want to meet certain people for some rea- 
son or other, and this Dale Wacker is one of them. 
Well, he’s been true blue to me, and I won’t worry 
him by asking about this mystery. It will come out 
some time, and if he’s in danger of trouble I’ll 
stick to him like a brother, for I know he hasn’t 
got a grain of real badness in his nature.” 

With the morning all of Markham’s recent dis- 
quietude seemed to have entirely disappeared. 
When they got down to the office he kept a close 
watch until nine o’clock. 


158 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Mail’s in, Frank,” he announced at last, put- 
ting on his cap. % 

“ All right,” nodded Frank, keeping on with his 
writing. 

“ Fatal hour approaches. We shall soon know 
our doom,” continued Markham in a mock-alarm 
way. 

He picked up a new canvas mail satchel marked 
“ F. M. O. H.,” and started for the door. 

“ See here,” hailed Frank, “ don’t you think 
you can about carry all of our first morning’s mail 
in some modest pocket?” 

“ Don’t care if I can. Big mail satchel makes 
a good business impression, see ? ” and Markham 
darted off, wondering if Frank’s heart was beat- 
ing as fast as his own over the suspense attached to 
their first mail results. 

Frank was indeed anxious, but he tried to go on 
with his writing. All the same his nerves were on 
keen edge and his hand was a trifle unsteady, as 
Markham returned from the post office and placed 
the satchel on the desk before him. 

“ Eight letters,” said Frank, drawing out the 
mail in the satchel. “ That isn’t so bad. Well, 
let us see what our correspondents have to say.” 

Frank cut open the end of the first missive, and 
Markham watched him like a ferret. 


A NEST EGG 


159 


“ No money in this one,” reported Frank, the 
enclosure in hand. “ Well, well, listen to this 
now! ‘You are a frod. I hot an apple corer 
last munth, and it was no good. You out to 
be persecuted. , ” 

Frank was quite disappointed, and Markham 
gulped several times as each succeeding letter pro- 
duced no money or stamps. Two people asked for 
a catalogue. One correspondent wanted a “Twelve 
Tools in One ” sent to him, and if found satisfac- 
tory would remit forthwith. 

Another correspondent sent an order for a ring, 
and wanted it “ charged.” Then there was a man 
who asked if they could furnish him with a cheap 
second-hand thrasher for his farm. 

One client wrote that if they would send him 
samples of their entire list, he would show the 
goods in his town and possibly get them lots of 
customers. 

“ Ah,” said Frank, feeling of the last letter, 
“ here is something tangible, sure, Markham. I 
can feel the coin.” 

“ Maybe it’s a cent,” suggested Markham, with 
a slight tinge of sarcasm. 

“ No, a ten-cent piece, sure enough,” declared 
Frank. “ For your puzzle, Markham, too.” 

“ Yes,” put in Markham, picking up the coin 


160 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

that Frank had placed on his desk, “ but the dime 
is — lead ! 

Frank pulled a dismal face. Markham looked 
actually mad. Then their glances met. They 
broke into a hearty laugh mutually. 

“ Humph ! ” commented Markham. 

“ Amusing, isn’t it? ” asked Frank, trying hard 
to keep up his courage. 

“ Oh, well, there’s the afternoon mail,” sug- 
gested Markham, getting up and beginning to fold 
some more circulars. “ Who expected any mail of 
consequence this morning, anyhow?” 

Frank resumed his task of working on the cata- 
logue. He whistled a cheery bar or two, felt too 
serious to keep it up, and went on with his work in 
a half-hearted way. 

“ This Frank’s Mail Order House? ” demanded 
a brisk voice, half an hour later. 

“Don’t you know it is?” challenged Frank, 
arising to welcome Ned Davis, a bright young fel- 
low, who was the messenger of the local bank. 

“ All right,” chirped Ned. “ Got a letter this 
morning from a correspondent at Bayview. En- 
closure. Man running a small store there asks us 
if Frank’s Mail Order House is a reliable concern. 
If so, instructs us to place this order with you.” 


A NEST EGG 


161 


Ned importantly spread out quite a voluminous 
order list before Frank. 

“ Accompanied with the cash,” added Ned, and 
set down a crisp, encouraging-looking five-dollar 
bill beside the document. 

“ Oh! ” ejaculated Markham, almost falling of! 
his chair with surprise. 

“ Ned,” said Frank, with a touch of genuine 
feeling, “thank you.” 

“ That’s all right,” responded Ned. “We’re 
simply working to get your bank account when it 
runs up into the thousands, see?” 

“ Will it ever, I wonder? ” murmured Frank. 

“Isn’t that a nest egg?” challenged the prac- 
tical young financier, 
ll 


t 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A SUSPICIOUS VISITOR 

Frank looked up from his work with an eager 
flush on his face. Markham, who had gone to the 
post office, was returning. His light, springy step 
coming up the walk, and cheery, ringing whistle 
told Frank that he was the bearer of good news. 

“ Afternoon mail,” sang out Markham, putting 
the satchel down on Frank’s desk. “ And she’s a 
cracker-jack ! ” 

“ Good,” said Frank. 

“ Over thirty letters, continued Markham 
gaily. “ Stamps in some, coin in others. My fin- 
ger tips just itched to feel those letters, Frank. I 
just had to do it. Oh, if this suspense keeps up 
I’ll be rifling the mails next.” 

Frank slitted all the letters in turn. Four pos- 
tal cards asking for catalogues were promptly dis- 
posed of. The first of the letters was from a 
country newspaper offering reduced terms for ad- 
vertising. 

There was an application for an agency. No. 

162 


A SUSPICIOUS STRANGER 163 

3 wanted to be hired in the office — could count 
money and put on postage stamps fast. 

Frank was not given to being very demonstra- 
tive on any occasion. As, however, he now be- 
gan to stare at the next letter he opened and almost 
uttered a shout, Markham knew that something 
very much out of the ordinary had come up. 

“ What is it, Frank? ” he questioned eagerly. 

“ Markham,” said Frank, quite unnerved with 
excitement, “ it’s a big, big order.” 

“ How big?” demanded Markham. “Quick,- 
I’m on the edge of nervous prostration.” 

“ Fifty to one hundred dollars,” announced 
Frank, in quite a husky voice. “ A few more of 
such orders and we’ll know where we stand. It’s 
from the owner of a general store at Decatur. 
He writes that he has purchased from an advertis- 
ing agency fifty-two picture rebuses — easy ones — 
one for each week in the year. Accompanying 
them are fifty-two separate advertisements. These 
he intends to insert in his weekly paper. He 
wants to offer each week ten prizes for the ten per- 
sons who first appear at his store with correct solu- 
tions of the rebuses.” 

“ I see,” nodded Markham — “ good idea.” 

“ He wants us to designate fifty-two novelties 
that we can supply, about half and half ten-and- 


164 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


twenty-cent articles. He will take ten of each 
article, or five hundred and twenty in all. Think 
of it, Markham! ” 

“ It’s grand, yes, just grand! ” declared Mark- 
ham, in a tone of suppressed excitement. 

“ He says he will trust to our judgment to se- 
lect the most catchy novelties, only he expects us 
to give him special figures on the lot.” 

“ Of course you’ll do it, Frank? ” 

“ Yes, and make a neat profit, too. Well, this 
is encouraging.” 

“ Yes, Frank, that one order will cover the cost 
of all the circularizing we have done to date. 
Hello ! hello ! hello ! ” 

In three different crescendo tones Markham tal- 
lied off three letters which Frank opened next in 
turn, and in each instance with cash results — 
two silver dimes and thirty cents in postage stamps. 

When the entire mail was opened, Frank had a 
little heap at his elbow representing six dollars and 
eighty cents, three dollars of which was to pay for 
two rings. 

“ Seven orders for your puzzle, Markham,” an- 
nounced Frank, “ besides what goes in the big or- 
der. Only one apple corer ordered. I’m afraid 
my prized invention is a frost.” 

“ Not at all,” dissented Markham. “ Look 


A SUSPICIOUS STRANGER 


165 . 

here, it’s plain from the letter you got this morn- 
ing that the Riverton hardware man had already 
used at least some of the names in the mail order 
lists. If I were you, Frank, in any new printed 
matter you get out I would refer to your apple 
corer as a decided improvement on the old one. I 
think, even, I would illustrate these improve- 
ments.” 

“ An excellent idea, Markham,” declared Frank. 

“ Further, I don’t know but it would be a good 
thing to offer one of the new corers, free on return 
of an old one, charging only the postage.” 

“ Oh, we’re learning,” declared Markham, 
buoyantly. “ This thing is a decided go.” 

Frank was immersed in business during the rest 
of that week. Markham proved an energetic and 
reliable assistant. There were circulars to send 
out, orders to fill, letters to write. 

Saturday night they had to work till eleven 
o’clock to clean up their desks. Frank was rush- 
ing the catalogue copy. Mrs. Haven was busy 
making new drawings, which had to be sent to the 
city to be photo-engraved. Orders, too, were sent 
daily to the city supply houses. 

Up at the novelty factory they were filling 
Frank’s first big order for a thousand of the wire 
puzzles and a thousand of the new apple corers. 


1 66 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

This latter device was really a very meritorious 
article. Retaining the form and dimensions of 
the original sheath, Frank had set inside two mov- 
ing pieces of tin that acted as knives. These ran 
into, a spiral tube which penetrated the apple with- 
out injuring it, and a twist on a knob cut the core 
out clean as a whistle. 

Monday morning’s mail was the largest yet re- 
ceived, due, Frank believed, to some little advertis- 
ing Haven Bros, had caused to be inserted in a few 
neighboring country newspapers. 

His little capital was now again nearly at the 
two hundred dollar mark. About noon Frank 
made up a package of about two hundred dol- 
lars. He had arranged to pay this amount to 
Haven Bros., draw against it if he ran short of 
funds, otherwise leave it in their hands to pay for 
the catalogue, which would be quite an expensive 
job. 

Markham had gone to the post-office with some 
mail. Frank looked up as a footstep sounded on 
the walk outside of the office door. 

It was not Markham, as Frank at first expected. 
Instead, a person he regarded in a decidedly un- 
favorable light came into view. 

The visitor was Dale Wacker, the boy Bob 


A SUSPICIOUS STRANGER 


167 

Haven had designated to Frank the day that 
Markham made his sensational dive into the cis- 
tern. 

He was not dressed as jauntily as on that occa- 
sion. His appearance was shabby and unkempt 
now. He slouched up to the door with a sneak- 
thief air, yet withal the brass and effrontery of a 
person possessed of few fine sensibilities. 

“ Say,” spoke Wacker to Frank, “ you run this 
shop? ” 

“ I’m interested in this business, yes,” answered 
Frank distantly. 

“ Pretty good graft? Looking for some such 
fake myself. What I wanted to know, though, 
was about one of your samples in the show case 
out there.” 

“ Well? ” demanded Frank. 

“ That wire puzzle.” 

“What about it?” 

“ Where did you run across it? ” 

Frank did not like the speech nor manner of his 
visitor. 

“ Is that particularly any of your business? ” he 
asked. 

“ Why, you see, just curious about it, that’s all,” 
stammered Wacker, somewhat taken aback at 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


1 68 

Frank’s sharp challenge. “Do you own it?” 

Frank’s eye flashed with manifest resentment at 
Wacker’s cool effrontery. 

“ See here,” he said pretty firmly, “ I have no 
time to waste answering idle and impertinent ques- 
tions,” and turned away from the door. 

“ Well, I’d seen it before, that’s all,” muttered 
Wacker. 

“ Oh, I fancy not,” said Frank. 

“ Oh, yes, I did. Huh ! guess I did — I was 
with the fellow who first made it when he got 
it up.” 

Frank was surprised. He must have shown it 
to the keen-eyed fellow quizzing him, for Wacker 
exclaimed: 

“ Aha — interested now, hain’t you? Tell you 
something more: the owner made me a duplicate 
of his original puzzle, and — there it is.” 

And to Frank’s amazement Mr. Dale Wacker 
pulled from his pocket a crude copy of the wire 
puzzle. 

It was the exact counterpart of the one Mark- 
ham had furnished as a model for those now being 
sold broadcast by Frank’s Mail Order House. 


CHAPTER XIX 


MISSING 

Frank was a good deal upset. In the light of 
the cistern episode and the knowledge that Mark- 
ham seemed afraid to meet certain people, he be- 
lieved that the advent of his present visitor boded 
no good for his friend and helper. 

As Dale Wacker showed the wire puzzle, stat- 
ing that he knew its inventor, Frank felt that he 
was in the presence of a mystery. 

“ Let me look at that, will you? ” he said. 

“ Sure,” grinned Wacker. “Why not? Take 
a good look, too. Seems familiar? Quite the 
right thing, eh ? ” 

“ What do you mean?” demanded Frank. 

“Why, just this,” retorted Wacker: “How 
do you come to be selling an article that no one 
has a right to sell except my friend who made it? 
I happen to know he invented that puzzle. I was 
with him when he did.” 

“When was that?” asked Frank. 

“ Oh, about six months ago.” 

169 


170 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ And where? ” 

“Now you’re asking questions, hey?” said 
Wacker, with a cunning air. “ You tell me first: 
do you know the fellow who made that puzzle? ” 

“What’s his name?” asked Frank. 

“ Dick Welmore.” 

“ Never heard of him.” 

“ Aha ! ” cried Dale Wacker triumphantly, 
“ then I’ve got you. I say, young fellow, you’re 
violating the law, you are. See here, I’m hard 
up. I know where Dick Welmore is snug and 
tight. If you don’t make it worth my while, I’ll 
go to him and have you prosecuted for stealing his 
invention.” 

“ Get out of here,” cried Frank, with flashing 
eyes. 

“ Hold on, now. Say, give me a job, and I’ll 
keep mum. Say, I can write a good hand. Once 
I took stock, see — ” 

“ Yes, I reckon you’ve taken stock to your cost, 
if what I hear is true. March out, and it won’t 
be healthy for you to come around here again.” 

“ I can make you trouble.” 

“ Try it.” 

Frank gave Wacker a decided push through the 
open doorway. Wacker was muttering under his 
breath all kinds of dire threats. 


MISSING 


171 

At exactly that moment Frank looked along the 
walk to the street at the echo of a fcherry whistle. 
It was instantly checked. Markham, tripping to- 
wards the office, halted with a shock. Like a 
flash he turned at a sight of Wacker. He disap- 
peared so quickly that Frank wondered if Wacker 
got a clear look at him. 

The latter, with a malignant growl at Frank, 
went away without another word. In some per- 
plexity Frank sat down at his desk, thinking hard 
and fast. 

“ I just couldn’t truckle with that fellow,” he 
said. “ Dick Welmore, eh? Can that be Mark- 
ham’s real name ? Evidently, though, this 
Wacker doesn’t know Markham is here. He 
thinks he is somewhere else, ‘ snug and tight.’ 
Oh, bother ! there’s only one right course to take in 
such a case, and I’ll follow it.” 

Frank decided that at quitting time he would 
lock himself and Markham into the office, and ask 
for an explanation of his fear and dread of meet- 
ing Dale Wacker. 

“ It won’t be to Markham’s discredit, I’ll guar- 
antee,” reflected Frank. u He’s square, if there 
ever was a square boy. Here he is now.” 

Markham appeared, breathing hard and looking 
excited. He tried, however, to appear calm. His 


172 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


face was quite pale. Frank saw that he was under 
an intense nervous strain. 

“ Oh, Markham,” said Frank, not indicating 
that he noticed his friend’s perturbation, “ I want 
you to take that money to Darry Haven.” 

“ All right,” answered Markham, glancing over 
his shoulder towards the street. 

“Be careful of it, won’t you now?” directed 
Frank, with a little laugh. “ Remember, it’s our 
entire capital, and here’s the mailing lists. Tell 
Darry to get them set up and printed just as quick 
as he can. We need them at once.” 

Frank had decided to have the mailing list 
names printed, each on a separate line with a broad 
margin. This he did so they could keep a perma- 
nent record of the result of using each name. Be- 
sides that, in the fire at Riverton the lists had got 
charred, and some of them were brittle and broken 
away, and some pages hard to decipher. 

Markham clasped the wallet containing the 
money tightly in one hand, thrust it into his out- 
side coat pocket, and tucked the rolled-up lists 
under his arm. 

“ Be back soon,” he said. 

“ All right, do so. Want to have a little talk 
with you.” 


MISSING 


173 


Markham looked up quickly, hesitated, gave a 
sigh, and started rapidly down the walk. 

“ I’ll have it over and done with, soon as he 
comes back,” reflected Frank. “ Poor fellow. 
Something’s on his mind. I’m going to help him 
get rid of it.” 

Frank resumed his task. He was soon en- 
grossed in finishing up a page of writing. 

“ Good,” he said finally, with satisfaction, “ the 
last copy for the catalogue. It will make twenty- 
four printed pages. The cuts I have had made 
and the cuts the supply houses have loaned me 
make a very fine showing. Well, the first two 
weeks show up pretty good. Business started, and 
paying expenses. Why, that’s queer,” exclaimed 
Frank with a start, as he chanced to glance at the 
clock — “ Markham has been gone a full half- 
hour.” 

It was queer. Markham had less than three 
squares to go on his errand. Usually he made 
the trip to Haven Bros, in five minutes. 

Frank walked to the door and looked out. He 
stood there, growing restless and anxious, as ten 
minutes went by. Then he grew restless, put on 
his cap, waited five minutes longer, and, closing the 
office door, went out to the street. 


174 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Pshaw,” he said, looking up and down the 
street, “what am I worrying about? Got that 
Dale Wacker on my mind, and it has upset me. 
Markham is probably chatting with Bob Haven. 
Well, Pve gone so far, 1*11 step over to the print- 
ing office and see.” 

Frank walked rapidly to the principal street, and 
up the flight of stairs in a business block to Haven 
Bros.’s office. 

As he entered he noticed all hands busy at cases 
and presses. Bob, shirt sleeves rolled up, was 
working on some chases on an imposing stone. 
Darry was reading proof at his desk. 

But there was no Markham. Frank experienced 
a sensation of dread for which he could not ac- 
count. He tried to keep cool, but the first word 
he spoke as he approached Darry made the latter 
look up quickly. 

“Got the money I sent you, Darry?” asked 
Frank. 

“ Why, no — did you send it? ” 

“Yes — over half-an-hour ago.” 

“ Who by?” 

“ Markham.” 

“ Oh, then, he’s doing some other errand first,” 
said Darry. “ Sit down, if you’re going to wait 
for him.” 


MISSING 


i75 


“ No, I’ll watch them doing things,” answered 
Frank, with an assumed lightness of tone. 

He strolled about the neat little office, pretend- 
ing to be interested. It was a dead failure. A 
lump of lead seemed bearing him down. Frank 
glanced at his watch. An hour had passed since 
he had sent Markham on his errand. 

“ Be back soon, Darry,” he said, and went out 
of the printing office with a dull, sick feeling at 
heart. 

Frank returned to his office. Markham was not 
there. He went back to the print shop. 

“Markham been here yet?” he inquired in a 
failing voice to Darry. 

“ Not yet, Frank.” 

“ Then something’s wrong,” suddenly burst out 
Frank, unable longer to endure the strain of sus- 
pense and dread. 

“ Why, how pale you are,” began Darry, rising 
from his chair. 

“ Yes, Darry,” said Frank in a quivering tone 
— “ Markham is missing, and with him my mail- 
ing lists and over two hundred dollars in cash.” 


CHAPTER XX 


A BAD BUSINESS 

Frank came down to the office the next morn- 
ing looking haggard and troubled. Stet was hang- 
ing around the door. 

“ Darry Haven told me to wait till you came 
down, and then let him know,” said the little fel- 
low. 

“ All right,” nodded Frank in a dull way. 

Stet darted off with his usual elfish nimbleness. 
Frank unlocked the door and sat down before his 
desk rather gloomily. He mechanically arranged 
some papers. Darry was with him before he had 
accomplished much. Stet accompanied him. 

“ Well, Frank,” questioned Darry, “ any word 
of Markham?” 

“ Not a trace, Darry.” 

“ Strange, isn’t it? ” observed Darry in a mus- 
ing way. “ I declare I can’t understand it.” 

“ Nor I,” said Frank. “ It’s him I’m thinking 
of, not of myself. I haven’t slept a wink all-night. 

176 


A BAD BUSINESS 


177 


Honest, Darry, if he was an own brother I couldn’t 
feel more anxious. Mother is quite as worried. 
I went everywhere about town last evening till the 
stores shut up. I telephoned several neighboring 
towns. I saw trainmen around the depot.” 

“ And found no one who had seen Markham 
after you sent him on that errand with the money 
and the mailing lists? ” 

“ Not a soul, Darry.” 

“ How do you explain it? ” 

“ I can’t. I suppose some people who don’t 
know Markham as I do, would say I was a fool to 
take up a stranger and put so much trust in him, 
that it served me right to have him run away with 
all I have in the world first chance he got. Well, 
let me tell you, Darry, that boy wouldn’t do me a 
wrong turn wilfully for a million dollars, and I 
know it.” 

Darry sighed and was silent. He had liked 
Markham, but his young business career had 
brought him in contact with so many weak and ab- 
solutely bad people, that secretly he feared that 
Markham had yielded to temptation, and they 
would not hear of him again. 

“ Have you no theory as to the reason why 
Markham should be missing so mysteriously? ” he 
asked. 

12 


178 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Why, yes, I have, in a way, Darry,” responded 
Frank, “ but it is all guess-work. I told you last 
night about some secret in his life.” 

“ Yes, I know,” nodded Darry. 

“ I also told you that I was convinced that Dale 
Wacker knew Markham, and that Markham for 
some reason dreaded meeting him.” 

“ It certainly looked that way, judging from 
Markham’s actions.” 

“ Very well, I think they ran into each other 
after Markham went on the errand to you. 
Wacker is a blackmailer, as his talk to me about 
the puzzle plainly shows. Does he know some- 
thing about Markham that might make him trou- 
ble? It certainly looks that way. He may have 
terrorized Markham into running away.” 

“ All right, if that is true, then Markham, if he 
is an honest boy, will send back your money and the 
mailing lists.” 

“ Of course he will,” declared Frank. “ I’ve 
been expecting to receive them every hour.” 

“ And if he doesn’t,” suggested Darry, some- 
what skeptically. 

“ If he doesn’t,” repeated Frank, slowly but 
steadily, “ then make up your mind to one thing.” 

“ And what is that? ” 

“ That Markham is in the power of some one 


A BAD BUSINESS 


179 


who holds him a prisoner, and can’t get word to 
me. 

“ H’m,” said Darry simply. Frank’s eyes 
flashed. 

“ Furthermore,” he went on, “ assuming that, I 
shall make it my business to investigate along that 
line, I shall never lose faith in Markham’s honesty 
and fidelity to me till I have used every endeavor 
to find out when, where and why he dropped out of 
sight so mysteriously.” 

“ You’re a staunch friend, you are,” commented 
Darry. “ In the meantime, though, Frank, your 
capital is gone. Worse than that, the whole basis 
of your business has gone with it.” 

“ Yes, the mailing lists,” said Frank. “ I’ve 
thought that all out, Darry. You will have to 
stop work on the catalogue and the rest of the 
printing. I can’t pay for the work.” 

“ We’ll trust you.” 

“ No,” said Frank steadily, “ I can’t run into 
debt.” 

“ We might spare a little cash till — till you 
hear from the other,” 

“ I won’t involve my friends. I have planned 
it all out. My mother is coming down to the of- 
fice to take care of the little business that will come 
in from the advertising.” 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


180 

“And what will you do?” asked Darry curi- 
ously. 

“ I have arranged to hire a horse and wagon. I 
shall go out and visit small towns and sell from 
door to door, or even from the wagon, till I hear 
from that missing money, or get on my feet 
again.” 

“ You’re a good one,” pronounced Darry with 
an admiring sparkle in his eye, slapping Frank 
heartily on the shoulder. “ You’re a stubborn 
one, too, so I won’t intrude offers of assistance only 
to be turned down.” 

“ All the time,” resumed Frank, “ I shall be 
looking out for a trace of Markham. See here, 
Darry, I can’t get that Dale Wacker off my mind. 
Who are his companions? Where does he hang 
out ? How am I going to set a watch on him ? ” 

“ He may not even be in town,” suggested 
Darry. “ You know Bob and I went all over 
Pleasantville last evening, like yourself seeking a 
trace of Markham. It looked as if Wacker had 
flashed into town and out again. We didn’t run 
across him, and we didn’t find anybody who had 
seen him since late in the afternoon.” 

“ Say, can I speak a word? ” piped in an anx- 
ious voice. 

It was little Stet who had spoken. Frank and 


A BAD BUSINESS 


181 


Darry had forgotten all about him. Now Stet got 
up timorously from the door step. 

“ Oh, it’s you,” said Darry. “ Heard all we’ve 
said, too, I suppose, Stet?” 

“Yes, I have,” replied Stet. “Had to — 
ought to — I’m interested, I am. I like you. I 
like Mr. Newton. You’re both my friends. I 
like Markham, too. He gave Hemp Carson, the 
Eagle manager, a setting down for pitching onto 
me. I don’t like Dale Wacker. Huh! hadn’t 
ought to. He robbed me of two dollars once. 
Well, Dale Wacker is in Pleasantville. I saw him 
this morning. He came in on a farmer’s wagon 
from somewhere out of town.” 

“ That’s news, anyway,” said Darry. 

“ You were going to give me my regular ten 
days’ vacation next week, you know,” continued 
Stet to Darry. “ Make it begin to-day, and I’ll 
soon find out for you all there is to find out about 
Dale Wacker’s doings.” 

“But that is hardly a vacation, Stet?” sug- 
gested Frank. 

“ It will be,” chuckled the little fellow, “ if I 
can get my two dollars’ worth of satisfaction out of 
him by showing him up.” 

“ All right,” said Darry, “ try it, Stet, if you 
want to.” 


1 82 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Stet went away forthwith. Frank went into de- 
tails with Darry as to the mail order business. It 
must remain partially inactive until something en- 
couraging developed. 

The morning mail was a pretty good one. 
About ten o’clock Mrs. Ismond came down to the 
office, and Frank initiated his mother into the busi- 
ness routine. 

“ Just get the mail each day, and fill what orders 
you can,” said Frank. “ When you can’t fill an 
order, return the money. You see, mother, I want 
to take the bulk of stock on hand with me for quick 
sales, and I can’t order any more until I get some 
money ahead.” 

Frank put in two hours about town trying to 
look up Markham. The result was quite as dis- 
couraging as upon the day previous. He closed 
an arrangement for the hire of a horse and a light 
wagon, and packed up some goods at the office, 
ready for his trip into the country. 

Mrs. Ismond, with a woman’s instinctive capac- 
ity for neatness, had the office in attractive order 
by late afternoon, and all the work attended to. 

“Don’t get discouraged, Frank,” she said, as 
they were on their way home. “ It won’t take a 
great deal of money to keep up the business in a 
small way. I sent out a hundred circulars this 


A BAD BUSINESS 183 

afternoon, and I will keep on at that average while 
you are away.” 

“ Why,” spoke Frank, “ how can you do that, 
with no mailing list addresses? ” 

“ Oh, I set my wits at work and made quite a 
discovery,” responded Mrs. Ismond with a bright 
smile. “ The Pleasantville Herald has quite a list 
of exchanges. I asked Darry to send me some. 
They come from all over the State. I selected a 
number of promising names from little news items 
in the papers. For instance: I took girls’ names 
from church and society items, and boys’ names 
from baseball club items and the like. Good, 
fresh names, Frank — don’t you see? ” 

“ I do see,” said Frank, “ and it’s a grand idea, 
mother.” 

After supper Mrs. Ismond went upstairs to make 
up a little parcel of collars, handkerchiefs and the 
like for her son’s journey. 

Frank looked up from the county map from 
which he was formulating a route, as his mother 
reappeared. At a glance he saw that she was very 
much agitated. 

“ Oh, Frank! ” she panted, sinking into a chair 
pale and distressed-looking. 

“ Why, what’s the matter, mother? ” exclaimed 
Frank, arising quickly to his feet. 


184 MAIL ORDER FRANK 

Mrs. Ismond had a worn yellow sheet of paper 
In her hand. 

“ Markham,” she said, in a sad, pained way. 
“ I was getting out some neckties for you, and by 
mistake opened the bureau drawer where he kept 
his belongings. I found this.” 

“ What is it, mother? ” asked Frank, taking the 
paper from her hand. He saw for himself, and 
his face turned quite as white and troubled as her 
own. 

“Too bad — too bad,” said Frank, looking 
down at the time-worn sheet of paper in a disheart- 
ened way. 


CHAPTER XXI 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 

It was a depressing discovery that Mrs. Ismond 
had made. Frank sat staring at the paper in his 
hand in silence for some minutes. 

This was a printed sheet. It was headed : 
“ Reward — One Hundred Dollars.’’ In short, 
the warden of the Juvenile Reformatory at Lin- 
wood, offered that amount for the return to that 
institution of an escaped inmate — Richard Mark- 
ham Welmore. 

“ Yes, it is our Markham,” murmured Frank 
— “ that is his middle name. The description an- 
swers him exactly,” and again Frank said in a 
troubled way: “Too bad — too bad.” 

Frank knew what his mother was thinking of — 
that they had harbored a convicted criminal, who 
had weakly yielded to temptation, beggaring them, 
and going back to his old evil ways. 

He now knew what Dale Wacker meant when 
he spoke of the inventor of the wire puzzle as be- 
ing in a “ snug, tight place.” Markham had 

185 


i86 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


sought relief from his irksome confinement getting 
up the pleasant little novelty that had taken so 
well. Evidently Wacker, when he first called on 
Frank, was not aware of the fact that Markham 
had escaped. 

Wacker had probably once himself been an in- 
mate of the reformatory. He knew its rules and 
routine. Coming across Markham on his way to 
Haven Bros., what more natural, Frank reasoned, 
than that he should take advantage of this knowl- 
edge? His recognition by Wacker would crush 
Markham. Had Wacker terrified him so that he 
had led him to some quiet spot, bargained with 
him, robbed him, sent him back to the reformatory, 
and laid claim to the reward? 

“ I am going to find out,” cried Frank, starting 
for his cap, but instantly quieting down again as he 
reflected farther. 

His impulse was to hurry downtown and tele- 
graph the reformatory at Linwood for informa- 
tion. Suddenly, however, he reflected that if his 
surmises were wrong, and things turned out dif- 
ferently than he theorized, he would simply be put- 
ting the authorities on the track of the unfortunate 
Markham. 

“ Mother,” he said, “ nothing will make me be- 
lieve that Markham voluntarily stole my money. 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 


187 


No, this Dale Wacker had a hand in this disap- 
pearance. Perhaps poor Markham met him and 
fled, and is in hiding. We may hear from him 
yet.” 

“ But, Frank,” suggested Mrs. Ismond in a 
broken tone of voice, “ we are sure now that Mark- 
ham was a — a bad boy.” 

“ Why so?” asked Frank. 

“ He was the inmate of a reformatory.” 

“ When I think of the old wasted days in my 
own life when I ran away from home,” said Frank, 
“ and the evil men I met who would have got me 
into any kind of trouble to further their own 
schemes, and I innocently walking into their trap, 
I shall give Markham the benefit of a doubt, every 
time. What right have we to assume that he was 
not a victim of wrong? No, no ! He was a true 
friend, an honest worker. I won’t desert or forget 
him until I have cleared up all this mystery.” 

Frank was up before five o’clock the next morn- 
ing. He had just finished cutting a week’s supply 
of kindling wood in the wood shed, when Stet 
popped into view over the back fence. 

Stet tried to look like a real detective. He 
glanced back over his shoulder. He even said 
“ Hist! ” in first hailing Frank. Then he asked: 

“ Going away to-day? ” 


1 88 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ I’ve got to, Stet,” answered Frank. “ Have 
you been looking up that Wacker fellow? ” 

“ I’ve been doing nothing else,” answered Stet, 
putting on a serious, careworn look. “ Say, he’s 
a bad one. Hangs out at the worst places on Rail- 
road Street, and plays cards all the time.” 

“ Throwing away his money, eh ? ” 

44 He don’t seem to have much. No,” said Stet, 
44 I saw him borrow from two or three chums. 
But he’s got great prospects, I heard him say. 
He’s waiting for somebody to come to Pleasant- 
ville, or for something to happen. You leave it to 
me. I’ll watch him like a ferret, only you’d better 
leave word where I can find you, if anything im- 
portant comes up.” 

“ All right, Stet. My mother will know where 
I am each day I am gone.” 

“ And say,” continued Stet, 44 I want you to say 
something to me.” 

“ Say something to you, Stet? ” repeated Frank 
in a puzzled way. 

44 Uh — huh.” 

44 What?” 

“ I want you to look at me fierce, and frown, 
and say that you order me out of your place, and 
if I show up again you’ll break every bone in my 
body.” 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 


“ See here — ” began Frank in wonderment. 

“ Now, you just say it,” persisted Stet. “ I 
know my business,” and he blinked and chuckled 
craftily. 

“ All right — here goes.” 

“ Good as a play,” declared Stet, as Frank went 
through the rigmarole. “ Now I needn’t tell any 
lies. Thrown out by my friends, discharged from 
my job, O — O — Oh ! ” and Stet affected sobs of 
the deepest misery. ‘‘Had Bob Haven kicked me 
— not hard — out of the shop last night. See? 
Object of abuse and sympathy. Oh, I’m fixed 
now to play Mr. Dale Wacker good and strong.” 

Stet disappeared the way he had come in a high 
state of elation. Frank went into the house for 
breakfast. He walked as far as the office with his 
mother. Then he went to the livery stable where 
he had hired the turnout. 

He was soon on the road. Frank tried to for- 
get the anxieties of the mail order business and his 
missing friend. He planned to cover six little 
towns by nightfall. 

Frank had good luck from the start. At a 
crossroads there was a country schoolhouse, a gen- 
eral store and some twenty houses. The man run- 
ning the store was just stocking in for the fall term 
of school. Frank came in the nick of time. He 


190 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


sold the man over ten dollars worth of rfotions and 
novelties. 

Watering his horse at a roadhouse, a little later 
on, he interested some loungers on the veranda. 
Frank got rid of two rings, a cheap watch, a 
pedometer and three of Markham’s puzzles. 

At noon he took dinner at Carrollville, quite a 
good-sized town. A small circus was playing here. 
Frank conceived the idea of buying a privilege to 
sell on the circus grounds. The manager wanted 
ten dollars for a permit, however, so Frank took up 
his stand near the railway depot. 

As the crowds came for their trains at five 
o’clock, he opened up his novelty stock. 

“ A pretty thrifty day,” mused Frank, an hour 
later, as he started for his final stop of the day at 
Gray’s Lake. “ Profits eleven dollars and twenty 
cents. Why, thirty days of this kind of trade will 
give me back my lost capital.” 

Gray’s Lake was a settlement and a summer re- 
sort. Frank put up the horse, got a good supper, 
apd then selected the newest and most salable of 
the trinkets and novelties he carried in stock. 

Among these was a good assortment of leather 
souvenir postal cards, just then a decided novelty 
outside of the large cities. H-e had brought along 
a large jewelry tray. This he suspended by a 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 191 

strap from his neck, and went up to the big hotel 
at the end of the lake. 

A group of girls in a summer house running out 
over the water furnished Frank with his first cus- 
tomers. He sold two friendship rings and sixteen 
postal cards. 

A crowd of idle men took fire on the puzzle 
proposition, as two men examining the wire devices 
got rating one another as to their respective abil- 
ity to get the ring off first. A dozen puzzles were 
purchased in as many minutes. 

Frank went the rounds of the verandas, meet- 
ing with very fair success. The people there had 
plenty of money to spare, time hung rather heavy 
on their hands, and they welcomed his arrival as 
a diverson. 

Frank grew to have a decided respect for Mark- 
ham’s little puzzle. He had struck the right 
crowd to sell it to, this time. At the end of an 
hour fully fifty persons could be seen on the well- 
lighted verandas and in the hotel rotunda, work- 
ing over the clever puzzle. An occasional u tr- 
ance of satisfaction would greet the solution of the 
puzzle. 

“ Markham has certainly left me a money-win- 
ner, if he never came back,” reflected Frank. 

He was passing along a lighted walk near the 


192 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


lake beach, when a young lady ran past him to- 
wards a group of friends. 

A foppishly-dressed man with a great black 
moustache was hastening after her, but she was 
calling laughingly back at him : 

“ No, no, count, you would take all night get- 
ting that ring off — I’ll try some one else.” 

“ It ees a meestake. Allow me to try once 
more, my dear young lady.” 

“Hello!” ejaculated Frank, with a violent 
start. Then in a flash he slipped the tray from 
place, set it hastily on a vacant bench, and as the 
man was passing by him caught him deliberately by 
the sleeve. 

“ Sare ! ” challenged the man, with a supercilious 
stare. “ Oh ! ” he added, wilting down in an in- 
stant. 

“I suppose you don’t know me?” demanded 
Frank. 

“ Nevare, sare.” 

“ I am Frank Newton, of Greenville, and, for 
all your false moustache and broken English, you 
are Gideon Purnell.” 

“ Let go! ” hissed the man, with a rapid glance 
at the group just beyond them. 

“ No,” replied Frank firmly, only tightening his 
grasp on the man’s coat sleeve. “ I have been 


AN UNEXPECTED MEETING 


193 


looking for you for over a year. I knew I should 
find you some time. I have found you now.” 

“What do you want?” stammered his crest- 
fallen companion. 

“ Ten minutes’ quiet conversation with you.” 

“ About what? ” 

“ You know. You were the tool Mr. Dofsett 
used to rob my mother of her fortune. He got 
what he was after. You overstepped yourself. 
You forged two names in your crooked dealings, 
as Mr. Beach, our lawyer at Greenville, has the 
proof.” 

“ Boy,” said Purnell, in a low, quick tone, 
“ don’t make a rumpus here. Come and see me 
to-morrow, and I will do the square thing by you.” 

“ You’ll do it now,” declared Frank definitely, 
“ or I will expose you to the people here, and wire 
Mr. Beach for instructions.” 

“ At least let me go and make some excuse to 
my friends yonder,” pleaded “ the count.” 

“ Go ahead,” said Frank. 

13 


CHAPTER XXII 


GOOD NEWS 

Frank kept a close watch on Purnell. He had 
reason to do so. Upon what he might by threats 
or persuasion compel this man to divulge, hung all 
the future prospects of his mother ever recovering 
her stolen fortune. 

When Frank’s step-father died, this person, one 
of his former associates, had produced notes and 
deeds apparently giving him the ownership to 
everything that Mr. Ismond owned. 

There were many flaws to his claim. Mrs. 
Ismond’s lawyer, Mr. Beach, discovered two 
arrant forgeries. Before any action at law could 
be taken, however, Purnell transferred all the 
property to “ an innocent purchaser,” Dorsett. 

Mrs. Ismond brought suit against the latter, but 
even Mr. Beach did not believe the law would 
force him to restore what he claimed to have 
bought for a valid consideration. Their only 
hope seemed to be to find Purnell, who had disap- 
peared. If through him they could connect Dor- 

194 


GOOD NEWS 


195 


sett with a conspiracy, Mrs. Ismond would win her 
case. 

This was the first time since he had fled from 
Greenville that Frank had seen this man. Now 
he forgot his sample case, Markham, and the 
whole mail order business amid the keen import- 
ance of keeping track of the slippery fugitive, and 
forcing from him a confession. 

Purnell approached the party of young ladies, 
still acting the exquisite and playing the foreign 
count he pretended to be. He bowed and smirked, 
and backed away to Frank. 

Instantly his face lost its mask. With a scowl 
he dropped his affected foreign drawl. 

“ You will have it out, here and now, will you? ” 
he growled, grinding his teeth viciously. 

“ Yes, I’ll have it out, or you in,” responded 
Frank pointedly. 

“ Then come to my room.” 

The false count led the way into the hotel, hur- 
ried up a staircase, and, unlocking a door on the 
second floor, ushered Frank into a room. He lit 
the gas and threw himself into a chair, glaring at 
Frank in a savage and desperate way. 

“ You’re a determined young man, you are,” he 
observed. 

“ Why not? ” demanded Frank. “ It has been 


196 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


the resolve of my life to hunt you down. If you 
escape me this time, I shall find you later. You 
are masquerading here under false pretences. 
I can expose you. Should I telegraph Mr. 
Beach, he would at once send an officer to arrest 
you.” 

“ That won’t help your case any,” observed the 
man. 

“ I don’t care. It will prove that Dorsett had 
a criminal for a partner, and that will influence the 
court when my mother’s suit comes to trial.” 

“ Name your terms,” spoke Purnell suddenly. 

“ Very well,” said Frank gravely: “ you helped 
rob my mother of the estate her husband left 
her. What you got out of it I don’t know, but 
it seems to have made it necessary for you to con- 
tinue the career of a fugitive and a fraud. 

“ What I got ! ” snapped out Purnell, springing 
to his feet in hot anger. “ I got what everybody 
gets who deals with that old rascal — the bad end 
of the trade, drat him ! ” 

“ I’ll leave you alone to your own devices,” said 
Frank, “ I’ll promise to see that you get some 
money when my mother recovers hers, if you will 
write out, sign and swear to the facts of your con- 
spiracy with Dorsett against my mother.” 

“ All right,” answered Purnell, after a moment 


GOOD NEWS 


197 


of thought. “ I’ve got some papers that apply to 
the matter. They are in my sitting room. I’ll 
get them.” 

The speaker walked to a door, turned a key and 
disappeared beyond the threshold. Frank sat 
awaiting his return. He congratulated himself on 
the ease with which he had intimidated the man 
to his purposes. 

Two minutes passed by, and Frank became im- 
patient, five, and his suspicions were aroused. He 
walked to the door and knocked, tried it, pushed it 
open, and found himself, not in a connecting room, 
but in a side corridor. 

“ Well, he has slipped me,” instantly decided 
Frank. 

He realized that he had been tricked badly. 
Frank went to the hotel office to make some in- 
quiries, made a tour of the grounds, and, finally 
surmising that the object of his search had fled for 
good, regained his sample tray and returned to the 
town. 

Frank did not stay all night at the local hotel, 
although he went there to ask for mail. He had 
given his mother a list of the hotels in the various 
towns he expected to visit, secured from a guide 
book. 

There was a brief note from his mother. It 


198 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


imparted no particular news, saying only that she 
was attending to orders as they came in. 

Frank found a cheap lodging, and was back at 
the hotel at the lake by six o’clock the next morn- 
ing. A brief talk with the clerk convinced him 
that Purnell would not be likely to return to that 
hostelry. 

He had gone, owing a week’s bill, and the two 
valises left in his room were found to be filled with 
bricks. 

“ I’ve missed my man this time,” reflected 
Frank, as he hitched up the horse an hour later. 
“ I may as well go right on my route. I’ll find 
him again, some time.” 

At Derby, Frank upon his arrival went to the 
telegraph office. He sent a message to the re- 
formatory at Linwood, asking if one Richard Wel- 
more was still an inmate of that institution. He 
asked, further, if one Dale Wacker had ever been 
a prisoner there. 

He went on selling in the town, with fair re- 
turns, until mid-afternoon. A reply to his mes- 
sage awaited him on his next visit to the telegraph 
office. It read: 

“ Dale Wacker paroled on bond of his uncle. 
Richard Welmore escaped about six months since. 


GOOD NEWS 


199 


One hundred dollars reward for his capture. If 
know his whereabouts, wire at once.” 

“ That upsets one of my theories,” thought 
Frank. “ Markham has not been captured for 
the reward.” 

Brandon was his next town. The day follow- 
ing he made Essex. He was pretty tired as he 
drove to its livery stable, about eight o’clock in 
the evening. 

After supper he went to the local hotel, and 
asked if there was any mail for Frank Newton. 

“ No,” replied the clerk whom he questioned, 
“ but here’s a telegram been waiting here for you 
since noon.” 

“ Thank you for your trouble,” said Frank, 
rather anxiously tearing open the yellow envelope. 

“ That’s all right,” nodded the hotel clerk. 
“Good news, I reckon?” he smiled, as Frank’s 
face lit up magically at a hasty personal of the 
message. 

“ I should say so ! ” declared Frank. 

The message was from Darry Haven, at Pleas- 
antville, and it read : 

“ Come home at once. Money found.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A RIVAL CONCERN 

“ I call that extraordinary,” declared Bob 
Haven. 

“ Certainly a sensational and a puzzling piece 
of business,” echoed his brother, Darry. 

“ It is the best news I have had for a long time,” 
said Frank, buoyantly. “ I tell you, fellows, you 
don’t know what a load it has lifted from my 
mind.” 

“ I should think so,” nodded Darry — “ to get 
back all that two hundred dollars, when you had 
given it up as lost.” 

It was ten o’clock in the morning. Frank’s 
clothing was covered with dust. His eyes looked 
tired and sleepy. Upon the receipt of the tele- 
gram at Essex, he had hitched up the horse 
promptly and started for Pleasantville. 

Darry welcomed him with effusion, and he and 
Bob at once led Frank into their little editorial 
sanctum. 


200 


A RIVAL CONCERN 


201 


There were some quick developments, and now 
Frank sat, a queerly decorated sheet of paper in 
his hand. On the table before him was the wal- 
let which had disappeared four days previous with 
Markham. 

“ Tell your story all over again, slowly and care- 
fully,” said Frank to Darry. “ It’s something to 
get back that money, but it’s a good deal more to 
find out what has become of Markham.” 

“ Well,” said Darry, “ it’s just as I told you. 
Yesterday noon in our mail we found that letter 
you have. As you see, it has an envelope bearing 
our name and address printed. We send these out 
when we solicit business, and I supposed it was 
some new customer asking an estimate on a print- 
ing job. Judge of my surprise, when I found en- 
closed that letter.” 

“ Yes,” murmured Frank, “ it’s a queer-looking 
affair.” 

“ You can see how it was put together. It must 
have taken hours for its sender to cut all kinds of 
letters from a printed newspaper, and slowly and 
patiently paste them onto that blank sheet. Letter 
by letter he built up those words and sentences.” 

Frank once more read over the letter in his 
hands, which ran : 


202 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ tell frAnk newTon Money is beHind coAl 
BoX, thiRd flooR, YoUr buiLDiNg — mARk- 
HAm.” 

“ Well,” resumed Darry,” Bob and I went up 
stairs here at once. None of the offices on the 
third floor has been occupied for a long time. In 
the hall is a big box with a slanting cover, to hold 
fuel for tenants in winter time. Everything was 
dirty, and plainly across the dusty box cover it 
showed where someone had recently rested, or 
been pushed over against the wall. We pulled 
out the box. Sure enough, in the four-inch space 
behind the box was your money.” 

“ Then a hot wire, and here you are,” observed 
Bob briskly. 

“ See here, fellows,” said Frank, “ I think I can 
figure this thing out.” 

“ Go ahead,” encouraged Darry. 

“ Markham sent that letter. He didn’t write, 
because he had no pencil. A pencil is usually an 
easy thing to get, so he must have been shut up 
somewhere. He found in his pocket a sheet of 
paper — ” 

“ Oh, by the way,” here interrupted Darry,” I 
forgot to explain something. I recognize the 


A RIVAL CONCERN 


203 


sheet of paper as a blank sample I gave Markham, 
enclosed in that same envelope, stamped, to give 
to Mr. Dawes up at the novelty works when he 
went there again. Mr. Dawes asked for a sample 
of one linen letter paper. If he wanted a lot, he 
was to write the amount on the sheet, and mail to 
us.” 

“ Well,” continued Frank,” somehow Mark- 
ham made paste — probably out of a piece of 
bread. He compiled that letter.” 

“But how did he get it mailed?” suggested 
Bob. 

“ Suppose he was a prisoner, and threw it from 
a window into the road, chancing its discovery and 
mailing by some passer-by.” 

“ That’s so,” nodded Darry. “ I believe you 
are correct in your conclusions, Frank. As to the 
mailing lists, which Markham also had with him, 
that’s a later mystery to develop.” 

“ Now then,” spoke Frank, “ I think I can also 
figure out something else. I belreve that Dale 
Wacker followed Markham. He was probably 
right on his heels when Markham entered this 
building. Markham saw him, got scared, and, to 
evade him, ran up to the third floor. There he 
found no rooms open to hide in. He was cor- 


204 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


nered, intimidated, maybe attacked by Wacker. 
He thought of that two hundred dollars, and 
dropped it behind the fuel box. Then — •” 

Frank paused here, and shook his head in doubt 
and perplexity. 

“ Poor Markham,” commented Bob. “ It 
looks likely that he is held a prisoner somewhere. 
Maybe because his captor knows he threw away 
that package of money, and won’t let him go free 
till he tells where. Anyhow, he’s a good one, sur- 
mounting all the difficulties of his situation and 
getting that letter to you.” 

“ I suppose you will take up the mail order 
business actively again, now you are in funds?” 
suggested Darry. 

“ Surely,” said Frank. “ Here, take the money 
and hurry up the catalogue.” 

Frank felt immensely relieved as he proceeded to 
his office. His mind, however, was full of plans 
looking to the discovery of Markham’s place of 
captivity. 

The letter had been mailed at Hazelhurst, a 
mining town about thirty miles distant. Frank- 
noted this fact, determining to make that town the 
starting point of his investigations, as soon as he 
got present pressing business in such a shape that 


A RIVAL CONCERN 


205 


he might leave the office in charge of his mother 
for a day or two. 

Mrs. Ismond was very happy over Frank’s re- 
turn, and greatly pleased over the recovery of the 
missing money. She had quite an encouraging re- 
port to make concerning orders received during 
that day and the one preceding. 

“ Oh, by the way, Frank,” she said, suddenly 
recollecting something, “ here is a letter addressed 
to you marked ‘ personal.’ I found it pushed un- 
der the office door this morning.” 

“ It’s from Stet,” said Frank, glancing at the 
enclosure, which interested him very much. 

“ On account of our strained relations,” wrote 
Stet, “ being ordered from your premises and 
kicked out of Haven Bros., I have wormed myself 
into the confidence of Dale Wacker. He has 
rented a room in the Main Street Block, and 
started into the mail order business. An old fel- 
low is sending out circulars for him, and they have 
got a bunch of printed matter from the Eagle Job 
Print, and he ordered one thousand watches from 
the city last night.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 

“ If Markham were only here! ” 

Frank Newton said this, with a sigh in a fervent 
way. His mother had some household duties to 
attend to, and had asked to be spared from the 
office for the rest of that afternoon. Frank had 
accompanied her as far as the neat, convenient cot- 
tage they now claimed as home. 

“ Yes, Frank,” she said, in quite a sad tone, “ it 
is a pity he is not here to share our good fortune, 
just as he did your first hard efforts to establish 
business.” 

“ That business is certainly a winner now,” said 
Frank. “ Mother, I feel it my duty to take a day 
off, or even two, if necessary.” 

“ To look for a trace of Markham? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ That would be only right, Frank.” 

“ It shall be to-morrow,” said Frank. “ Good- 
bye till supper time.” 

Frank walked slowly back to the office review- 
206 


AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 


207 


ing the immediate past of the mail order business, 
and speculating as to the demands and prospects 
of the future. 

“ Sense and system ” had worked wonders in the 
past few days. With the recovery of the missing 
money Frank had been enabled to take up his old 
plans afresh. 

The catalogues were rushed to a finish. He 
paid up all the small accumulated bills, and or- 
dered fresh supplies from the city. He put him- 
self in touch with attractive novelty markets, and 
there was scarcely a mail that did not bring a pro- 
posal to have him advertise and sell some catchy 
mail order specialty. 

Haven Brothers increased their advertising for 
him. Then Frank had conceived a clever fol- 
low-up system for both prospective and old cus- 
tomers. He took care to sell just what he had 
advertised, and there were no complaints. 

The wire puzzle was still the leading seller of 
his list, but the apple-corer, strengthened by the 
special notices Markham had suggested, was be- 
ginning to take hold, too. 

Things looked very fair and prosperous for 
Frank that afternoon. The only depressing fea- 
ture was the continued absence of Markham and 
the mystery surrounding it. 


208 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Frank had hurried up to get the day off he now 
promised himself. There had been so much to 
do. Even now he was due in the city to talk over 
a proposition with a big manufacturer there. This 
gentleman offered to furnish Frank free an eight- 
page illustrated insert for his catalogue and special 
buying terms, if he would push the goods actively. 

The loss of the mailing lists had been severely 
felt at first. Mrs. Ismond’s bright wits, however, 
had quite solved that difficulty. She continued to 
send out circulars from the country papers that 
were exchanges on the Pleasantville Herald list. 

“ The business is growing fast,” reflected 
Frank. “ Those who buy once, very often write 
for some article I haven’t got in stock. Why not 
run a special purchasing department? It looks 
very much as if fhis business will some day run 
into a great big mail order house, selling every- 
thing and having a warehouse of its own. Hold 
on, son — what’s the hurry? ” 

A bareheaded, wild-eyed youngster turning a 
corner had bolted into Frank with considerable 
force. Frank grabbed him quickly and swung to 
a rebound poise, or both might have measured 
their length on the walk. 

“ The very — fellow I — was after!” panted 
the urchin in a gasp. 


AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 


209 


“That so?” said Frank. 

“ Yes. Say, the fellows all like you.” 

“ I’m glad. Thanks,” smiled Frank. 

“ And sent me — to hunt you — and come 
back.” 

“ Back where, son? ” 

“ Office — mail order house. Riot ! ” 

“Why, what do you mean?” inquired Frank, 
quickening his steps. 

“ Big fellow from the country. Been drinking. 
Smashed one of your windows. Went away. 
Came back and smashed in the door. Says he’ll 
wreck the place.” 

“Why, what for?” demanded Frank, now 
walking still faster. 

“ Says he’s a customer of yours. Says you 
swindled him. Says he’ll wipe you out. That’s 
it — run.” 

Frank was not only puzzled, but quite startled. 
He broke into a run. As he turned into the street 
where the office was located, he heard a mingled 
chorus of yells and cries. 

A crowd made up mostly of boys filled the lawn 
space in front of the office. A glance showed to 
Frank the lower sash of the big front window in 
ruins. 

The showcase outside lay tipped over on the 
14 


210 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


ground. The office door, with an upper panel 
slivered, hung on one hinge. From inside the 
place there came slamming, crashing sounds. 

Frank realized that something serious was hap- 
pening. He could not imagine what it could be. 
He was not the boy, however, to remain inactive 
while a wanton destruction of the little personal 
property he owned was going on. 

“ Here he is ! ” cried an eager voice. 

“ Say, Newton, don’t go in there. The man’s 
wild, crazy. He’ll half kill you.” 

“ We shall see about that,” retorted Frank, 
grimly. 

He parted the excited crowd and sprang past the 
threshold of the dismantled door. His eyes 
flashed as he took a glance about the place. 

A waste basket had been kicked to the other 
side of the room, littering the place from end to 
end. A file cabinet had been upset against his 
desk. Packages of circulars ready for the mail 
had been hurled pell-mell against a partition. 

The author of all this reckless riot was just now 
pulling at some temporary shelves crossing a cor- 
ner of the room, holding boxes of envelopes. All 
came down with a crash as Frank shouted sternly: 

“Stop that — what are you doing?” 


4 


AN UNWELCOME VISITOR 


211 


“Huh! ” growled the worker of all this mis- 
chief. “ I’m cleaning out this place.” 

He was a husky, big-boned farmer-looking man 
of middle age. 

Frank saw that he had a wicked eye. He also 
discerned that the fellow had been drinking heavily. 

The stranger put his foot across a wicker basket 
and crushed it to splinters. 

“ What — what you got to say about it,” he 
demanded, facing on Frank. 

The big mailing table stood between them. The 
fellow leaned upon it as he stared insolently and 
savagely at Frank. 

“ I happen to be the proprietor of this place,” re- 
marked Frank. 

“ Whoop ! you are? ” yelled the man in a sort of 
frantic joy. “ You’re the mail order shark, are 
you? Here’s luck. Better than smashing your 
traps. Say, I’m going to eat you ! ” 

The man made a pounce around the table to 
catch Frank. His big fists warned the latter. 
The fellow in his present condition was positively 
dangerous, and was four times as big and strong as 
Frank. 

“ Hold on,” cried Frank, seeking to temporize, 
but still keeping his distance by following the table 


212 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


and keeping its broad surface between them. 
“ What do you mean by this riot and destruc- 
tion ?” 

“ Let me get you once, oh, let me just get my 
hands on you once,” grated out the man, with a 
savage crunching of his teeth, “ and I’ll tell you all 
about it. Won’t come to time, eh? Then — I’ll 
come to you ! ” 

Now excited, alarmed boyish faces peered in at 
the door and window. 

“ Run for it, Newton,” advised a quick voice. 

“ Call the police — there’ll be murder done here 
soon,” gasped another voice. 

The stranger had sprung to the top of the table, 
poised to next spring upon Frank and put a stop to 
his retreating tactics. 

He staggered as he tried to hold his footing. 
Frank acted quickly. 

Jumping to the farther end of the table he seized 
its edge, gave it a lift and sent the troublesome in- 
truder sliding off his balance on a sharp slant. 

Crash ! the fellow struck the half-shattered front 
window and went through it headlong. 



THE FELLOW STRUCK THE HALF-SHATTERED FRONT WIN- 
DOW AND WENT THROUGH IT HEADLONG. Page 212 

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[CHAPTER XXY 


TROUBLE BREWING 

Frank was astonished at the ease and rapidity 
with which he had dumped his troublesome visitor 
clear out of the office. 

“ Good for you Newton! ” hailed an approving 
chorus of voices. 

“ Look out for him ! ” 

“ No, he’s got all he wants.” 

Frank parted the excited ring surrounding the 
ejected visitor. There lay the big, brawny fellow, 
quiet enough now. 

“ He’s dead,” pronounced one awesome voice. 

“ No, only stunned,” dissented a second speaker. 

“ Yes, that is the case,” said Frank. 

In falling the man had struck a row of white 
boulders edging a flower bed. There was quite 
a contusion near one temple and he was bleeding at 
the nose. 

“ The man’s hurt,” said Frank. “ Some of you 
help me lift him onto the grass, some one go for 
a doctor.” 


213 


214 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“No need,” sharply spoke a bystander — 
“ here’s the police.” 

“ Make way there, what’s the rumpus here, any- 
how? ” challenged a stentorian voice. 

Frank felt relieved. The speaker was the town 
marshal. The gathering had been reported to him 
and he had hurried to the spot. 

The marshal dispersed the crowd. Two assist- 
ants brought a litter and marched off with the in- 
sensible man upon it. Frank closed the office door 
and barricaded the window as best he could. 

Then he accompanied the marshal to the town 
lock-up. The prisoner was taken to a cell and a 
physician was called. By and by the marshal came 
back to Frank. He had a wallet, pocket knife and 
other little articles in his hand. 

“Only stunned, the rest of it is what he’s drank,” 
he explained. “No need of worrying, Newton. 
He’s got over two hundred dollars in this pocket- 
book, so we’ll make him meet your bill of damages. 
What will it be?” 

“Oh, from ten to twenty-five dollars.” 

Bob Haven had heard of the trouble and soon 
joined Frank, and helped him to get things back 
into order. A carpenter was called on to repair 
window and door. 


TROUBLE BREWING 


215 


“ Sort of queer — the fellow making a break on 
you this way,” suggested Bob. 

“ It mystifies me,” confessed Frank. 

“ You don’t suppose he could be one of your 
old apple-corer customers, do you ? ” inquired 
Bob. 

“ Hardly. He acted like a man having some 
solid grievance. Here’s the marshal coming. He 
may have some inkling of the fellow’s motive.” 

The marshal looked quite grave as he came 
down the walk and beckoned Frank out of the of- 
fice. 

“ That man’s name is Halsey,” he said “ and he 
comes from Westboro. Newton, he makes some 
pretty serious charges against you. Says he has 
been badly swindled.” 

“ Not by me,” declared Frank. “ There must 
be some mistake.” 

“ He says not. He claims he sent some money to 
you and got a worthless article in return.” 

“ Let me see the man at once,” urged Frank. 
“ His charge is utterly unfounded. I am not in 
business to defraud people, but to make regular 
customers of them.” 

“ We all know that, Newton,” said the marshal 
in a kindly tone. 


2l6 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Frank readily accompanied the marshal. When 
they reached the police station he was taken down 
stairs into the lock-up. 

“ Hi, let me out of here, will you?” demanded 
his recent visitor, noisily jangling the door of his 
cell. 

“ Keep quiet, you,” ordered the marshal. 
“ Here’s ttie \ oung man who runs the mail order 
business ir Pleasantville.” 

“ Oh, .is it ried the prisoner, with a savage 
starfe 'at Fra . “Let me^out, officer. I want 
"bout two minutes chance at the miserable swind- 
le..’ 

“ It will pay you to act with some reason,” 
warned the marshal. “ Now then, you made the 
charge to me that you had been swindled.” 

“ Outrageously,” cried the prisoner. 

“ Give us the details. Young Newton has the 
confidence of everybody in Pleasantville, and we 
don’t believe he would do a dishonest act.” 

“ Don’t?” flared up the prisoner. “Why, I’ve 
got the proofs. I got a circular a few days ago, 
saying that I had been selected as the man in West- 
boro to receive a full-size hunting-case watch and 
chain, cut shown, for eleven dollars, provided I 
would show it to my neighbors and advise them to 
buy.” 


TROUBLE BREWING 


217 


“ Never sent out such a circular,” asserted 
Frank. 

“ I sent the money. The watch came yesterday 
evening. It was a five-cent toy watch, tin cases, 
paper face, no works.” 

“ Where is the circular you speak of? ” asked 
Frank. 

“ I left it at home. It was from the United 
States Mail Order House, Pleasantville — ” 

“ Oh,” interrupted Frank with sudden enlight- 
ment. Then, turning to the marshal, he added: 
“ This man probably tells the strict truth, but my 
business advertises only as ‘ Frank’s Mail Order 
House.’ ” 

“ Then there’s two in Pleasantville? ” demanded 
the prisoner. 

“ I think so, yes,” answered Frank. “ I shall 
soon find out. At any rate, you have made a mis- 
take in charging me with this swindle. You have 
damaged my office, and you must pay for it.” 

“ Son,” eagerly ejaculated the prisoner, pressing 
his face close to the iron bars of his cell door, “ you 
find me the right swindler, and give me a brief 
interview with him, and I’ll pay your bill twice 
over.” 

“ We’ll let you know in a little time,” said the 
marshal, moving off. 


2l8 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ And now for the United States Mail Order 
House,” said Frank to himself, as he left the vil- 
lage lock-up. “ Of course that means — Dale 
Wacker.” 


CHAPTER XXVI 


MYSTERIOUS STET 

Main Street Block was the oldest business 
building in Pleasantville. It was here, according 
to Stet’s brief report, that Dale Wacker had gone 
into the mail order business. 

Frank attended to some necessary writing at 
the office. Then he went to Main Street Block. 
Downstairs the street floor of the building was oc- 
cupied by stores that did a good trade. The up- 
per floors, however, were only partly occupied. 

Frank went up the dusty stairs to the second 
story. Here were a photographer, a surveyor, and 
a tailor. 

Frank ascended the last flight of stairs. When 
he arrived at their top he found a small hallway 
ending at a door. 

“ Why,” he said, “ this floor is not divided off 
into offices. Looks as if it had been used for a 
lodge room. Yes, there is a peep-hole in that door. 
I’ll knock, anyhow.” 

Frank did knock. He heard some fumbling at 
219 


220 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


a dirt-grimed window at one side of the hall. It 
moved slightly in as if set on hinges. 

Then there was dead silence. Again he ham- 
mered at the door. A slight snap suddenly 
sounded. This was caused by the cover to the little 
circular hole in being shot back. 

“What do you want?” sharply demanded the 
voice of some one behind the hole, invisible for the 
darkness of the closed in room or entry beyond. 

“ Is this the United States Mail Order House? ” 
asked Frank. 

“The what?” 

Frank repeated the magnificent-sounding name. 

“ Never heard of it.” 

“Well, then, is there a Mr. Wacker here?” 
persisted Frank. 

“ No. Nobody but a sick old man. Go away.” 

“ Hold on,” said Frank, but the wicket went 
shut with a sudden snap. 

“ Of course this is the place,” thought Frank. 
“ That’s something to know. Hello — ” 

Five steps down the stairs Frank started. Some- 
thing had struck his shoulder. As he turned he 
noticed the window being pulled to. Also at his 
feet the object that had struck him. 

It was a little piece of tin — around it was tied 
a fragment of coarse manilla paper. Frank picked 


MYSTERIOUS STET 


221 


it up. He slipped it into his pocket and descended 
to the street. Turning the corner he untied the 
paper. It was scrawled over, and read: 

“ Keep cool. Be shady. Things working. 
Important. Midnight.” 

Frank had to smile at all this serio-tragic phrase- 
ology. 

“ Stet wrote that,” he said. “ Still the dark and 
mysterious detective ! Probably enjoying it. He 
usually means something though, for all his extrav- 
agant ways of mystery. That means he has news 
to tell me. But where does he expect to see me at 
midnight? And why midnight? ‘ 

“ Ah ! Brr-rr-r ! Hist ! Good old Stet ! 
He’ll probably do something sensational soon, but 
meantime I must pursue my investigations.” 

These did not result in much. Frank went to 
the post-office. The postmaster told him that twice 
a day either Dale Wacker or an old man who was 
evidently associated with him brought a great many 
letters to mail. In return they received as many as 
forty letters a day. They presented a good many 
money orders, always for the same amount — 
eleven dollars. 

The afternoon was nearly gone by this time. 


222 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Frank called at the town hall but found that the 
marshal had gone home to sleep until midnight. 

“ I will see him bright and early in the morning,” 
decided Frank. “ He can’t make any mistake by 
assuming that old lodge room to be the headquar- 
ters of the United States Mail Order House Swin- 
dle. Those fellows are taking some risks. They 
will be in for a sudden disappearance unless the 
marshal nabs them soon.” 

“ Are you going to take a day or two looking 
up Markham? ” his mother asked at the tea table. 

“ I can’t to-morrow, mother,” continued Frank 
— “ other important business. I hope to get the 
day following, though.” 

Frank put in an hour on a small set of books he 
kept at home covering the mail order business. 
Then he went to bed. 

Something disturbed him about two hours later, 
for, almost wide awake, he counted the strokes of 
the town bell. It was just twelve o’clock. 

“Midnight, eh?” mused Frank. “That was 
Stet’s dark and deadly hour. I say — if it isn’t 
Stet on hand ! ” 

Some pebbles struck the upper closed sash of the 
room in which Frank slept. Beyond the wire 
screen covering the lower half of the window 
Frank made out a form moving to and fro. 

“Hist!” sounded out. 


MYSTERIOUS STET 


223 


“ Yes, Stet,” said Frank, slipping out of bed, “ I 
hear you. Well?” 

“ It’s me,” said Stet. “ Lift up the screen, will 
you ? ” 

“ Oh, want to come in ! ” 

“ I don’t, but I do want to give you something.” 

“Why, what is this?” asked Frank, as lifting 
the screen Stet shoved a round package into his 
hand. 

“ It’s your missing mailing lists.” 

“ And where did you get them? ” 

“ Dale Wacker has been using them ever since 
he started in business,” explained Stet. “ Where 
he got them is easy to guess.” 

“ From Markham, of course.” 

“ That’s it. This was my first chance to get 
away from them. Say, there’s Wacker and his 
partner. They’re up to the worst swindle you ever 
heard of. They’ve taken in a big lot of money. 
They’re booked to leave to-morrow, so I sneaked 
the lists out of the outfit. I’m not going back to 
them.” 

“ Why, then—” 

“ I’m going down to Hazelhurst,” proceeded 
Stet. 

Frank was surprised that Stet should mention 
the very place he had most in his mind. 

“To Hazelhurst? ” he repeated curiously. 


224 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Yes. From something I heard Wacker say 
to his partner, I am pretty sure that Wacker has 
got Markham hidden away or a prisoner some- 
where around Hazelhurst.” 

“ Why, Stet,” said Frank, “ I have thought that, 
too. I was going there myself to-morrow, only 
some important business hinders me.” 

“Tell you what I’ll do,” suggested Stet; “let 
me see what I can find at Hazelhurst. There’s 
going to be a big blow-up with Wacker & Co. to- 
morrow. As I have sort of been in with them, 
maybe it would be best for me to keep out of the 
way so I won’t get hit with any of the pieces.” 

“ What do you mean by a blow up, Stet?” in- 
quired Frank. 

“ ‘Splosion.” 

“ Indeed?” 

“ Sure thing! Say about ten o’clock to-morrow 
morning you hang around Main Street Block, and 
see what a telegram I sent to-day is going to fetch 
the United States Mail Order House.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE POST-OFFICE INSPECTOR 

“ Now then, my friend, behave yourself.” 

“ Haven’t I paid the damages? ” 

“ You have, but don’t get into any further expen- 
sive mischief.” 

“ H’m!” observed the victim of Dale Wacker’s 
mail order swindle, “ that’s to be seen, if I ever 
get my hands on the real fellow who robbed me. 
As to you, stranger,” to Frank, “ just send in your 
bill double. Sorry I disturbed you, but we all make 
mistakes” 

“ No, Mr. Halsey,” replied Frank, “ I only ask 
you to pay the cost of that window you smashed 
and the door you broke.” 

“ How much — let me settle it now,” urged 
Halsey. 

“ I’ll trust you,” said Frank. “ I will send the 
bill when the carpenter gets the repairs done.” 

The trial had come off. A small fine had been 
imposed by the village judge on Halsey for his 
disorderly conduct. The marshal had explained 
1 5 225 


226 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


to him that Frank was not the person who had 
swindled him. He added that very probably 
through Frank’s investigation they would soon dis- 
cover the identity of the United States Mail Order 
House. 

“ You can come with us, but you will have to 
curb your fighting proclivities,” warned the mar- 
shal. “ Here is where the law steps in, and you 
must not interfere with its course.” 

“ I came a long way to get satisfaction,” mut- 
tered Halsey. a Somehow, I’ll have it too.” 

The marshal led the way, and they were soon 
mounting the stairs of Main Street Block. They 
proceeded quietly, so as to give no warning or create 
any curiosity with other occupants of the building. 

“ There is the door,” said Frank in a guarded 
tone, as they reached the landing of the third 
story. 

The marshal advanced and gave a firm resound- 
ing knock on its panels. They could detect a stir 
within. Then the wicket shot back. 

“Who are you — what do you want? Thun- 
der! it’s the marshal.” 

Frank fancied he recognized the tones as belong- 
ing to Dale Wacker. 

“ That’s who it is,” answered the official. “Here, 
here I want a word with you, young man.” 


THE POST-OFFICE INSPECTOR 227 


The wicket was shot as suddenly as it had been 
opened. They could hear a quick scramble in the 
room beyond. 

“ Open this door,” loudly demanded the mar- 
shal, resuming his knocking. 

“ They won’t do it,” spoke up Halsey, advanc- 
ing a step. “ Say,” lifting his ponderous fist, “ I’ll 
soon clear the way, if you say the word.” 

“ No,” responded the marshal, putting up a de- 
taining hand. “We have no legal right to invade 
the premises. Whoever is in there, cannot escape. 
There is no other stairway leading to the street ex- 
cept this one.” 

“ What are you going to do?” asked Frank. 

“ Why, you had better go back to the town hall 
with Halsey,” advised the officer. “ See the clerk, 
and let Halsey swear out a criminal warrant against 
Dale Wacker and others concerned in a swindling 
scheme at this place.” 

“ All right,” nodded Frank. “ Come Mr. 
Halsey, let us make haste.” 

“ I will save you any delay, gentlemen,” spoke 
up a new voice. 

All three turned, to observe a keen-faced, bright- 
eyed man who had come quickly up the stairs. 
There was a certain half-military, half-official pre- 
cision to his make up that at once impressed Frank. 


228 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“ Yes,” continued the newcomer, coming for- 
ward on the landing as though he had a perfect 
right there, “ I’ll soon get action here. You are 
the town marshal, I believe? ” 

“ That’s right,” nodded the officer, regarding 
the speaker in some wonderment. 

“ Well, I am a post-office inspector. Came on a 
telegram. Got the birds caged in there? Give 
me a few facts, will you ? ” 

The marshal briefly recited his suspicions and the 
case of Halsey. The inspector as tersely told of a 
telegram the post-office department had received, 
exposing the operations of the United States Mail 
Order House. Frank at once decided that Stet was 
its author. 

“ No dilatory fraud order case here,” observed 
the inspector briskly. “ It’s got to be a raid, I 
see. Here, let me have a try. In there !” called 
out the official in a loud tone of voice, pounding on 
the door panels, open in the name of the law, or we 
shall be obliged to use force.” 

There was no response whatever to this manda- 
tory challenge. The inspector placed his ear to the 
door. Then he said sharply. 

“ Watch out close. I will be back at once.” 

“ He’s brought the locksmith with him,” an- 
nounced the marshal a few minutes later, peering 


THE POST-OFFICE INSPECTOR 229 


over the banisters. “ Those government fellows 
act pretty swiftly when they make up their minds. 
We haven’t the power that they have.” 

The inspector, arrived with the locksmith, or- 
dered the latter to open the door. 

Frank looked about him curiously as, the door 
once opened, all hands passed into the room be- 
yond. Its tables were littered with envelopes, cir- 
culars and letters. 

The big lodge chamber was partitioned off at 
one end by a cambric curtain. Here there was a 
couch, a small oil stove and some eatables and 
dishes, evidences of light housekeeping on the 
premises. 

The inspector darted about from corner to cor- 
ner, and into all the little apartments that had 
formerly been in service as lodge and rooms. 

“ H’m,” he observed, coming back from his in- 
spection to the others, “ birds have flown.” 

He moved to an open window. Pendant from 
an iron shutter hinge was a strong portable knot- 
ted fire escape. Its ground end trailed into an in- 
side court of the building. 

“ If you think you know the people who were 
here and who have certainly escaped,” suggested 
the inspector to the marshal, “ you had better get 
your men on their track before they leave town.” 


230 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


“All right,” said the marshal glumly making 
for the door. 

“ Here, I’m in on that arrangement,” observed 
Halsey. 

The inspector with an eagle glance at the let- 
ters on the tables and a business-like air, sat down 
to look over a mass of correspondence lying be-, 
fore him. Frank went up to him. 

“ Can I be of any assistance to you, sir? ” he 
asked. 

“ You helped in this thing. Yes, yes you can 
help me,” said the inspector. “ Take this note to 
the local postmaster, will you ?” 

The inspector wrote a few words on his own 
card. It summoned the postmaster. The in- 
spector directed that official to deliver all future 
mail of the Wacker outfit to himself or his repre- 
sentative. 

When the postmaster was gone the inspector 
impressed Frank into service. This consisted in 
sorting out the letters and taking down the names 
of the persons who had been swindled. 

“ Now you can go for the marshal, if you will,” 
said the inspector, about an hour later. 

Frank found that official just returned from an 
unsuccessful search for Dale Wacker and the old 


THE POST-OFFICE INSPECTOR 231 


man with the big beard, his presumable partner, 
whom Stet had vaguely described to Frank. 

“ I must catch the afternoon train for the city 
and make my report to headquarters,” said the 
inspector, when Frank returned to him with the 
marshal. “ I want you to put a trustworthy cus- 
todian in charge here until we can send a regular 
man to close up the matter, and start after those 
swindlers.” 

“ FI put one of my deputies in charge,” said 
the marshal. “ As to Wacker and his partner, 
they’re probably safe and far by this time.” 

The inspector regarded the speaker with a half- 
pitying, half-contemptuous look. 

“ That’s as may be,” he observed, “ for the pres- 
ent. We don’t let matters drop that easily, our- 
selves. There’s something you mustn’t forget of- 
ficer: When the United States Government gets 
after a guilty man, if he fled to the furthest cor- 
ners of the earth, we never let up till we find him.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


A HEART OF GOLD 

It had been a strenuous day for Frank. He and 
his mother had put in double duty at the office 
that afternoon. Everything in the mail order bus- 
iness was moving along smoothly. Only this com- 
plication of Dale Wacker and Markham com- 
prised a disturbing, unsettled element in the situ- 
ation. 

It was a beautiful moonlight night. Frank en- 
joyed the quiet of the hour after the stirring tur- 
moil of the day, and prolonged his stroll. Almost 
instinctively his footsteps led him in the direction 
of the scene of the main commotion of the day — 
Main Street Block. 

“ Hello,” said Frank suddenly and in some sur- 
prise, as, passing its gloomy entrance, he observed 
a solitary figure seated on a step in its shadow. 

Frank recognized the man whom the marshal 
had appointed as custodian of the raided mail or- 
der concern up-stairs. 

“ Oh, that you, Newton?” spoke the man in a 
somewhat embarassed way. 

232 


A HEART OF GOLD 


233 


“ Yes,” replied Frank, “ just headed for bed. 
Enjoying the fine evening? ” 

“ Well,” said the custodian slowly, “ I can’t say 
I am. Sort of lonely. Don’t be in a rush. Dull 
and sleepy hanging around this desolate old bar- 
racks.” 

“Why don’t you go to bed, then?” suggested 
Frank. “ There’s a comfortable cot upstairs 
there.” 

“ Ugh,” responded the custodian, with a grim 
shudder — “ catch me !” 

“ Why, what’s the matter?” pressed Frank, dis- 
cerning that something really was wrong. 

“ I believe the place is haunted. I have heard 
some awful groans.” 

Frank was interested, and finally said he would 
go with the watchman and make an investigation. 
For quarter of an hour they found nothing, then 
Frank discovered the form of a man lying in the 
bottom of a disused coal chute. The man was in 
great pain. Much to the youth’s amazement the 
fellow proved to be Gideon Purnell. 

Frank questioned the rascal and found out Pur- 
nell had been Wacker’s partner in the dishonest 
mail order scheme. Purnell had fallen down the 
chute while trying to escape from the marshal. 
Ois back was injured and the fellow was in a dy- 


234 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


ing condition. He begged Frank to take him to 
some place where he could die in peace. 

“ I am sorry for you,” said Frank. If you 
really are badly hurt — ” 

“ Don’t doubt it. I know what I’m talking 
about,” said Purnell. “ I’ve only a few days left.” 

“ I want to do right,” said Frank slowly. 

“ Then help a poor, broken wretch to die in 
peace,” pleaded Purnell. 

“ I’ll be back soon,” said Frank simply, deeply 
affected himself. 

Frank acted on an impulse he could hardly con- 
trol. He ran to the Haven home and roused up 
Darry and Bob. There was animated explanation 
and discussion. 

Half-an-hour later, secret and stealthy as mid- 
night marauders, the trio of friends wheeled the 
Haven Brothers’ delivery hand cart down the alley 
behind Main Street Block. 

“ Bet the fellow played you — bet he’s made 
off,” predicted Bob. 

However, they found Purnell just where Frank 
had left him, only insensible now. They lifted 
him, a dead weight, into the cart. Then Bob, 
piloting the way, warned Frank and Darry of late 
pedestrians, and thus they reached Frank’s home. 

“ Where am I — in a hospital? ” spoke Purnell 


A HEART OF GOLD 


235 


weakly, arousing from his stupor an hour later. 

“ You are at my home,” said Frank, coming to 
the side of the comfortable bed where the sufferer 
lay. 

“ Oh, no ! no ! ” panted Purnell. “ Let me hide 
my head with shame — let me die. In your home 
— under the roof of the people I ruined — 
robbed ! Heaven have pity on me ! ” 

“ Don’t think about that,” said Frank sooth- 
ingly. “We have tried to make you comfortable. 
In the morning we will get a doctor.” 

“ Not a doctor, boy, no, but a lawyer,” spoke 
Purnell in broken tones. “ Boy, the meanest thing 
I ever did was to rob your mother of her fortune. 
Let the last thing I can do on earth be to give it 
back to her.” 

Frank remained by the side of the sufferer until 
early morning. Then Bob Haven came with a 
telegram from Stet. 

“ Hurrah ! Markham is found ! ” cried Frank, 
reading the message. “ Stet found him in a coal 
mine. He was a prisoner.” 

“ Good for Stet! ” said Bob. 

“ Just what I say. Markham is coming here. 
Bob, the skies are clearing, it would seem.” 

“ I am glad of it, Frank.” 

The news about Markham was indeed true. He 


236 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


had been kept a prisoner in an abandoned mine by 
an old man who was a tool of Wacker. The old 
man had been well-thrashed by Stet and had fled 
to parts unknown. Markham had quite a story 
to tell, as we shall soon see. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


CONCLUSION 

“ Well, Newton, how goes the mail order busi- 
ness? ” 

“ Famous ! ” 

Frank answered the cheery hail of the Pleasant- 
ville postmaster like a boy telling the truth. 

“ Glad of it, and proud of it,” nodded and 
chuckled the good-natured old man. 

He hustled out of the office as he had hustled in. 
Frank was growing to be an important customer of 
“ Uncle Sam,” and his local representative catered 
to him. 

In fact, it looked as though the increased postal 
business Frank had brought to Pleasantville would 
soon put that office in a new class, and thereby 
raise the official’s salary. 

Two months of Frank Newton’s brisk business 
career had now passed away like some smooth, 
pleasant dream. 

There was no regret with Frank for the kind- 
ness he had shown Gideon Purnell. That man had 


237 


238 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


died three days after Frank had removed him to 
the little cottage, blessing the friends who had 
taken him in charge, and leaving a signed confes- 
sion that meant the defeat of Dorsett in his suit at 
law, and, therefore, the restoration of the de- 
frauded widow’s fortune. 

For two weeks Markham had lingered about the 
house, a mere shadow of his former self. Then, 
good care and nursing set him on his feet again. 

It was strange, but Frank could not find the 
heart to ask him to tell the secret of his life. 

Markham referred to the matter of his disap- 
pearance, but in a vague, constrained way. 

He stated that Dale Wacker had a certain power 
to do him great harm. So great was his dread, 
that he had consented to accompany Wacker away 
from the town. He had managed, however, first 
to drop the two hundred dollars where it was later 
recovered by Frank. 

“ Never mind what it was,” explained Mark- 
ham, “ but that boy could do me great harm. I 
hoped to temporize with him. He took me to a 
lonely farmhouse. Here he had a friend as bad 
as himself. They locked me up, took the mailing 
lists away from me, and said I should never go free 
till I told what I had done with your money, which, 
somehow, Wacker knew I had in my possession 


CONCLUSION 


239 


when he first overtook me. It was at the farm- 
house that I made up that letter to Haven Broth- 
ers. I dropped it next day from a wagon in which 
they drove me to the mine.” 

“ All right, Markham,” said Frank, “ there’s 
more to tell I know, but you’ll tell me when the 
right time comes, I am sure.” 

“ The right time will soon be here, never fear,” 
declared Markham, with emotion. “ I have writ- 
ten a letter that will bring me a friend who will 
quickly clear up all this mystery.” 

Frank was content with this. As before he had 
absolute confidence in Markham. Never did a boy 
seem to deserve it more than this stranger. He 
worked early and late. He was singing, laughing, 
whistling half the time, happy and industrious. 
With the disappearance of Dale Wacker, a dark 
shadow seemed to have passed out of his life. 

Bob Haven came in on the heels of the post- 
master with some new letter heads. Frank looked 
them over with pleased satisfaction. In one cor- 
ner was a list of references. Among them were 
three banks. This Frank had found a very valu- 
able asset. The local institution had always en- 
dorsed him as reliable, and had secured permission 
from two other banks, allowing Frank’s Mail 
Order House to refer to them. 


240 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


The Havens had got some exchanges to put in 
a little reading article, and a cut of both the apple 
corer and the wire puzzle. All these little items 
had tended to build up the business. 

The old office had been cut up into four rooms. 
A young lady kept the books. Frank had engaged 
a crippled young man as a stenographer, and he 
was a good one. Markham and himself had each 
an office to himself. Upstairs was the stock and 
shipping rooms employing four boys. 

“ System and sense ” had been Frank’s watch- 
words — the mail order business was a pronounced 
success on that basis. 

“ A gentleman to see you,” spoke the stenog- 
rapher, arousing Frank from a most pleasing day 
dream. 

Frank looked up to greet a bronzed, earnest- 
eyed man of middle age. He was erect and mili- 
tary in his bearing. 

“ Is a young man named Markham employed 
here ? ” inquired the stranger. 

“ He is interested in the business here, yes,” said 
Frank. 

This would have been news to Markham him- 
self. The wire puzzle had brought in lots of 
money. Frank had planned to tell Markham that 


CONCLUSION 


241 


very evening that the latter should have a settled, 
tangible interest in the mail order business. 

“ I did not know that,” said the visitor, with a 
quick sparkle in his eyes that Frank could not at 
all understand. “ I very much wish to see him.” 

“ He is away on some business,” explained 
Frank, “ but I think he will return within an 
hour.” 

“ May I wait? ” politely inquired the gentleman. 

“ Certainly,” said Frank, “ just step into his of- 
fice.” 

“ His office? ” repeated the caller, again with a 
vivid flash of his eye. 

Frank ushered the stranger into the next office, 
pulled a chair near the window, and handed him 
the daily paper from the city. 

He resumed his work. Engrossed in this, he 
almost forgot about the waiting stranger. Frank 
finally discovered that over an hour had gone by. 
He stepped to the door of the adjoining office. 

“ I am sorry for your long wait, sir,” he said, 
“ but I feel certain Markham will be here soon. 
Is it anything I can attend to for him? ” 

“ No,” was the definite reply. 

Just then Frank heard some one inquiring for 
him in the outer office. This seemed to be a day 
16 


242 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


for strangers. Two men whom he had never seen 
before entered his room. 

One was a prim, sour-looking person. His 
companion more free and easy of manner at once 
addressed Frank. 

“ Is your name Newton? ” 

“ Yes,” responded Frank, none too well pleased 
at the man’s familiarity. 

“ Believe you telegraphed to the reformatory 
at Linwood some time since about a boy named 
Welmore — Richard Markham Welmore?” 

Frank started violently. He was greatly taken 
aback. 

“ Did I?” he said simply. 

“ You did,” asserted the stranger promptly. 
“ You’ve given us some trouble running you down. 
Welmore, under the name of Markham, is now in 
your employ.” 

“ What of it? ” inquired Frank, with dire fore- 
bodings of trouble. 

“ We want him, that’s all, my dear young 
friend,” broke in the other man. “ Dangerous 
character, escaped criminal. This is an officer of 
the institution.” 

“ What is your interest in this matter, may I 
ask? ” demanded Frank. 

“ Distant relative, guardian, best friend. Sad 


CONCLUSION 


243 


case. Left on my hands, cared for him, spent my 
means educating him. Repaid kindness by rob- 
bing me.” 

“ That is a falsehood! ” 

Like a thunder clap the words sounded out. 
The waiting stranger in the next room spoke them. 
As he appeared in the open doorway, the man 
whose veracity he challenged looked as though 
confronted by an accusing nemesis. 

“ Welmore! ” he almost screamed. He turned 
white as a sheet and cowered back, crestfallen and 
frightened. 

“ Yes, Jasper Lane — false friend, perjurer and 
thief,” flashed out the other. “ You cared for 
Dick Welmore? You expended your means on 
him? Where is the two thousand dollars I left 
you for his education? ” 

“ Keep him off — don’t let him touch me,” 
pleaded the other man. 

“ Pah ! ” coarsely uttered the reformatory man, 
giving Lane a disgusted push to one side. “ Mis- 
ter,” he continued, addressing Lane’s accuser, “ if 
there’s been crooked business here, we didn’t know 
it.” 

“ There has been,” affirmed the other. “ My 
boy wrote me about it. I have hastened from the 
Philippines to right his wrongs. This creature, 


244 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


Lane, accused him falsely, had him imprisoned. 
I secured the proofs of it before I came here to 
find my son Dick Welmore.” 

“ Markham’s father!” murmured Frank, with 
sudden enlightenment. 

“ Well,” said the officer, “ your boy will have 
to go with me, but if you can prove what you say, 
the court will not long hold him.” 

“You, Jasper Lane,” spoke Mr. Welmore 
sternly, “ you do not leave my side till you have 
righted my boy.” 

“ I’ll do it, I’ll do it! Don’t expose me, don’t 
ruin my reputation! ” whined Jasper Lane. 

“There is Markham — Dick — now,” an- 
nounced Frank, as a cheery whistle sounded out- 
side. 

The next moment Markham entered the room, 
grew pale as he first noticed Lane, saw his father, 
and flew to his parent’s arms with a wild cry of 
delight. 

“ Father,” he said, leading Mr. Welmore 
towards Frank, “ this is Frank Newton, the best 
friend I ever had in the world.” 

“Why not?” said Frank earnestly — “if your 
boy was my own brother, Mr. Welmore, I couldn’t 
think more of him.” 


CONCLUSION 


245 


“ It is noble in you to say so,” said Mr. Wel- 
more with considerable emotion. 

“ Father, Frank is the best boy in the whole 
world! One fellow in a million! ” 

“See your sign outside — Boy Wanted — I 
need a job.” 

“ All right, in a moment. Sit down.” 

Frank did not look up from the letter he was 
reading to give attention to the applicant for work. 

It was a very interesting letter for Frank, for it 
was from Dick Welmore, or Markham, as we have 
known him. 

It told that the youth had been completely vin- 
dicated and released, and would be back at his 
business post of duty in the morning. 

It also enclosed an item cut from a city paper, 
telling of the arrest and conviction of Dale Wacker 
for robbing street mail boxes. 

The letter concluded by saying that Dick’s 
father had decided to settle permanently in Pleas- 
antville, and would be glad to invest some capital 
for his son in Frank’s Mail Order House. 

As Mrs. Ismond’s case against Dorsett would 
probably reach a decision in the widow’s favor dur- 
ing the next sixty days, Frank felt that there would, 


246 


MAIL ORDER FRANK 


indeed, be no lack of money to expand the success- 
ful enterprise he had built up from nothing. 

“ All right,” said Frank now, for the first mo- 
ment glancing at the boy he had requested to be 
seated. “Want work, do you — Why, Nelson 
Cady ! ” 

“ It’s me, yes,” confessed Frank’s visitor. 

“ Why,” said Frank, “ I thought you were in 
Idaho?” 

“ Was — ain’t now. Never will be again,” de- 
clared Nelson. 

“ What’s the matter — cowboy life too strenu- 
ous for you ? ” 

“ Say,” said Nelson mournfully, “ you see this 
old suit I’ve got on? You see the coat of tan on 
my face? That’s all I got out of working ten 
hours a day on a lonesome ranch for a man who 
hardly gave me enough to eat.” 

“ And you have come back to try something 
more congenial, Nelson?” insinuated Frank, with 
a friendly smile. 

“ Yes. I want work. Give it to me, will 
you?” pleaded Nelson. 

“ Have you been home yet? ” asked Frank. 

“ No, nor won’t go there until I have earned 
enough to pay back the money my father started 
me out with.” 


CONCLUSION 


247 


“ I’ll hire you, Nelson,” said Frank readily, 
“ only I must advise your father where you are.” 

“ All right, only if he tries to get me back home 
before I pay back that money he advanced me, 
I’ll run away again,” asserted Nelson. 

Nelson Cady “ made good ” on his praiseworthy 
proposition, later on. The result of his decision 
to put aside roaming and adventure for practical 
business, will be told in another volume to be en- 
titled “A Business Boy; or, Winning Success.” 
In that volume we shall meet Frank and some of 
our other friends again. 

The following week Frank found that the busi- 
ness needed more space, and closed an advanta- 
geous lease for the third floor of Main Street 
Block. 

Right in the heart of the bustling little town, 
one morning, a big gilt sign announced to the pub- 
lic the new and enlarged quarters of Frank’s 
Mail Order House. 


iTHE END. 


The JACK RANGER SERIES 

BY CBARENCB YOUNG 

JACK RANGER’S 
SCHOOLDAYS 

Or The Rivals of Washington Hall 

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who are down, and so real and lifelike. A typical board- 
ing school tale without a dull line in it. 



^ JACK 

ft 

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* SCHOOLDAYS 

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i 

CLARENCE YOUNG 

i 



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JOE, THE HOTEL 
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and later on drifts to the city and obtains a position in another hotel 



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BY CLARENCE YOUNG 

IN “The Motor Boys Series” Mr. 

Clarence Young has, at a single 
bound, placed himself in the front rank 
of writers for boys and young men. 
This line of stories is clean, bright, up- 
to-date, and full of adventure. 

Each volume handsomely illustrated 
bound in cloth, stamped in colors 

Price per volume, 60c. 

THE MOTOR BOYS 

Or Chums Through Thick and Thin 

TN this volume are related how the 
1 three boys got together and planned 
to obtain a touring car and make a trip lasting through the summer. 

THE MOTOR BOYS OVERLAND 

Or A Long Trip for Fun and Fortune 

T\7ITH the money won at the great motor cycle race the three boys 
vv purchase their touring car and commence their travels. When 
in the West they hear of the opening up of a new gold diggings and 
resolve to visit the locality in their car. 

THE MOTOR BOYS IN MEXICO 

Or The Secret of The Buried City 

"PROM our own country the scene is shifted to Mexico, where the 
x motor boys journey in quest of a city said to have been buried 
centuries ago by an earthquake. 

The MOTOR BOYS ACROSS the PLAINS 

Or The Hermit of Lost Lake 

'T'HIS is the latest volume in this highly successful series and takes 
“*■ the boys through a variety of adventures. How they found Lost 
Lake, unraveled the mystery surrounding the lonely hermit who 
dwelt there, and saved their precious gold mine from falling into the 
hands of a band of sharpers. 



CUPPLES & LEON CO., Publishers, NEW YORK 


BOYS of BUSINESS SERIES 

BY ALLEN CHAPMAN 

A LLEN CHAPMAN is already fa- 
vorably known to young people, 
and they are bound to hail this new 
series by him with immense satisfac- 
tion. These stories make the best of 
reading for boys getting ready to enter 
business. 

THE YOUNG EXPRESS 
AGENT 

Or Bart Stirling’s Road to Success 

Illustrated. 12mo. 

Cloth. 60 cents 

"DART’S father was the express agent 
^ in a country town. When an ex- 
plosion of fireworks rendered him unfit for work, the boy took it 
upon himself to run the express office. The tale gives a good idea 
of the express business in general. 

TWO BOY PUBLISHERS 

Or From Typecase to Editor’s C^air 

Illustrated, 12mo. 

Cloth, 60 cents 

'T'HIS tale will appeal strongly to all lads who wish to know how 
- 1 - a newspaper is printed and published. The two boy publishers 
work their way up step by step, from a tiny printing office to the 
ownership of a town paper. 

MAIL ORDER FRANK 

Or A Smart Boy and His Chances 

Illustrated, 12mo. 

Cloth, 60 cents 

TXERE we have a story covering an absolutely new field — that of 
11 the mail-order business. How Frank started in a small way 
and gradually worked his way up to a business figure of considerable 
importance is told in a fascinating manner. 



CUPPLES & LEON CO„ Publishers, NEW YORK 


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